


The Other Prince

by TheMadTargaryen



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M, OC centric, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-10-25 12:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 81,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17725430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadTargaryen/pseuds/TheMadTargaryen
Summary: How did it come to this? How did I come to be a slave fighting for my life in these Gods forsaken pits on the other side of the world for the entertainment of these wretched people? I was a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. I am Silas Baratheon, the firstborn son of the late King Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. One day, I will win my freedom and seek vengeance on those who forced me on this path.





	1. How did it come to this?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow readers! My name is TheMadTargaryen (or MadTargaryen or just Mad, whatever you guys want to call me LOL) and I am very excited to be here sharing the first of many works with you all.  
> So about this story, The Other Prince follows my OC Silas Baratheon, the firstborn son of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister and how his presence will affect the Game of Thrones. I am not a huge fan of completely alternating the canon story so there will be mild changes here and there, mostly anything that really involves Silas, so don't really expect to see major changes in the Westeros plots, like the War of the Five Kings for example since he will be mostly stationed in Essos for the time being.  
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and please let me know what you think!

The Other Prince

CH.1

How did it come to this?

 

The clash of swords meeting rang through the arena of the hot arid stadium as the two men fought each other for their lives. The stone stadium trembled a rhythmic thundering beat of a thousand feet stomping as the spectators cheered on the fighters, not to support the slaves fighting, but for bloodshed. No, in this line of work, there are no winners, only losers and poor bastards that managed to survive this hell they call the fighting pits of Astapor.

Pacing back and forth along the small square cell underneath the vibrating stadium was a young man of twenty years. He was tall, broad in the chest and shoulders but lean and well-toned in his lower torso, the results of two years of doing nothing but training to fight for his life. Sweat and dirt-matted his long black wavy mane of hair sticking to the glistening suntanned skin of his square-jawed face to his lash scarred back.  

He stopped pacing for a moment when he heard the crowd cheer. His bright green eyes concentrated on the fight on the other side of the stone wall from the small window provided in the cells. He had already finished his match for the day, his body still throbbed from the beating he received, but won the match nonetheless. He had to stay and wait for the other fighters from his Master’s house to finish their fights before they could return to their cells. By the sound of the crowd, he wouldn’t be waiting much longer.

_God’s, how did it come to this?_ The young man thought to himself after he heard one of the fighters scream in pain and the crowd chanting ‘KILL’ to the fighter still standing. _How did I come to be a slave fighting for my life in this Gods forsaken pits for the entertainment of these people? I was a prince. I am_ _Silas, the firstborn son of Robert Baratheon, the late King of the Seven Kingdoms. I do not belong here!_

He stopped pacing for a moment when he heard the crowd cheer. His bright green eyes concentrated on the fight on the other side of the stone wall from the small window provided in the cells. He had already finished his match for the day, his body still throbbed from the beating he received, but won the match nonetheless. He had to stay and wait for the other fighters from his Master’s house to finish their fights before they could return home. By the sound of the crowd, he wouldn’t be waiting much longer.

As he continued his pacing, Silas heard two guards walking down the long stone hallway. They were laughing at something one of them said, something about someone wanting to visit Master Kraznys. Silas thought to himself how lucky he was to learn to speak and understand the Valyrian language during his lessons when he was younger. He certainly shocked his Master when he cursed at the man in Valyrian the first time they met. He had always been interested in Valyrian history and their culture before the Doom.

_"She docked yesterday, wants to see the unsullied,"_ one of them, a bald portly man with dark skin, said to the other.

_"Truly?"_ The other guard, a taller gangly man, asked sounding surprised. _"Do you think she will purchase any?"_

The portly guard jeered at his friend's question. _"What the fuck is a woman going to do with an army of unsullied?”_

_"But she's the Dragon Queen!"_

Silas halted suddenly and his eyes widened in surprise. _The Dragon Queen! She's here?_

He remembered hearing of the last surviving Targaryens living in exile while he sat in on the Small Council meeting for his father. This was the only information that ever took his father’s attention from his wine and whore’s and caused the fat King to go on a long rant about how he wanted them dead and ordered to hire an Assassin to kill them. This often ended with an argument between him and his father. Silas always thought it unnecessary to kill them, not to mention a waste of gold, not when they were halfway across the world. They weren’t a threat to them, but his father never saw it that way.

It wasn’t until Silas was brought to Essos when he began to hear more tales of the last surviving Targaryen from other slaves and merchants and traders in the market when he visited with his master. How she had been married to one of the mightiest Khal's that roamed the Dothraki Sea. How she miraculously remained unburnt when she walked into her late husband's burning pyre and hatched three dragons. Silas read many books on the Targaryens that claimed that they held some type of magic and powers, but he couldn't believe it for sure. People often did like to overpraise a famous name.

_"So she says,"_ The fat guard smirked. _"That bitch is no Queen, I saw no dragons with her. Just because she has a famous name, she thinks she can rule the fucking world. She can be the Queen of my cock, that's all she's good for."_

The two men laughed at the lewd jokes they made about the Mother of Dragons and what they'd do with her.

Silas just rolled his eyes and scoffed at these men. These men never had a woman come near their cocks unless they dangled gold in front of them. He was sure the whore’s make them pay extra.

The two guards finished their laughing when they came to a stop at Silas' cell. The two men leered at him warningly as the fat guard took his jingling iron keys from the clip on his leather belt to unlock the cell door and open it.

_"Master Kraznys has summoned you to guard him while he presents the Unsullied,”_ The fat guard informed Silas. _“He says you are to be washed and presentable, so hurry up, your Master does not like waiting."_

Silas began to slowly walk over toward the open gate. The guards stepped back cautiously and kept their hands on the hilt of their swords when he moved closer to them. He glared at the two for a moment before stepping over the doorway.

The skinnier guard stepped toward Silas and brandished a pair of iron manacles that he was tasked to place on Silas’ wrists before leading him out of the cells and through the narrow hallway.

The crowd above them erupted into a deafening thunder of applause, signaling the end of the fight, and another life taken for this senseless amusement.

The guards came to a sudden halt and grabbed Silas’ shoulder to stop him as well when the heavy Iron Gate blocking the portcullis creaked and groaned awake as the cranks turned to lift the heavy barrier that stood between them and the arena.

Silas watched as two men dragged a headless body by the chains they hooked into the skin of the legs of the poor bastard that lost his life.

A third man walked through the portcullis, in his hands is the blood dripping severed head that he quickly recognized as Tizam, one of his Master’s fighters and one of the few men here that he considered a friend in this hell.

_“Haha! Take a look at your friend!”_ The fat guard pointed toward the small group of guards dragging away Tizam’s body. _“Looks like he finally got his freedom.”_

Anger began to flood his very being as he watched the men laugh at the fallen slave. Silas listened to them in their Valyrian tongue how funny it was to watch how he died and that he didn't stand a chance against his opponent.

_Of course, he didn't stand a chance,_ Silas thought angrily to himself _. The other guy is a seven-foot ogre of a man!_

He closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath. _God's, how did my life come to this?_

He remembered that day, his last day in Westeros…

 

**FLASHBACK**

**Two years ago.**

**Five days after the execution of Eddard Stark…**

Two Knights of the Kingsguard dragged Silas from the black cells he previously shared with Ned Stark until the late Lord lost his head by the orders of his horrid brother Joffrey and took him to the throne room. A week on the throne and his brother already plunged the Seven Kingdoms into war.

The throne room was empty, apart from his brother sitting smugly on the Iron Throne, his Kingsguard along with the Hound standing in a straight line at the bottom of the steps in front of the throne, their mother Cersei sitting in a plush red velvet chair beside the throne and the few members of the small council that remained in Kings Landing.

"I haven't seen the throne room this empty in a long time," said Silas, his voice hoarse and dry from lack of water he received during his imprisonment. He scratched his nose, the manacles on his wrist jingled as he moved his hands. "Did you already scare the other Lords away brother?"

Joffrey shifted in his seat, as if he was about to stand and say something but decided not to give in.

"I thought it would be better to hand out your punishment privately," Joffrey said, trying to sound commanding to him.

Silas knew that this wasn't his brother's idea. Joffrey hated him, it isn't like him to not turn his execution into a spectacle for all to see. Ned Stark's execution was a perfect example. Now, the kingdoms were at war. No, it was perhaps their mother or Varys who wanted this a private matter, to keep the crown from gaining more enemies than they already have. Silas was well liked by the people and to see the Prince be executed would call him a martyr and use his death as the rallying cry of the common folk to stand up against the crown.

"Did you, really?" Silas sarcastically sounded surprised. He turned to look at his mother but the Queen did not give him as much as a glance. She either look down or towards his brother on the throne. "Well, I must thank you then. It would have been rather embarrassing for me if people saw me begging for my life before you take my head."

Silas looked around and noticed something amiss.

"Where's Ser Illyn?" he looked around again and still couldn't find the royal executioner anywhere in the large room. The prince looked up to his brother. "Isn't he going to kill me or are you going to have your hound attack me instead?"

"No brother, I am not going to execute you."

Silas looked at his younger brother, stunned at what he heard. He spent the days he was imprisoned ready to die, yet here he stood being told by Joffrey no less that he wasn’t going to be executed after all.

"What you committed is treason and punishable by death—"

"It wasn't treason and you know it. I now have a claim to the throne again, as said in father’s final decree. You're not the King."

Joffrey stood up suddenly, his crown fell off his head rolled onto the floor. **“I AM THE KING YOU TREASONOUS CUNT!”**

Cersei quickly got up and picked up her son's crown. She went over to her fuming son and placed his crown back on his head and rubbed his back to calm him down.

"Sweetheart, calm down now," she told Joffrey gently. "Sit back down and let's continue this hearing, alright?"

Joffrey huffed as he nodded and sat back on the throne that seemed much too large for him. His brother never looked more like a child than he did now.

Silas couldn't help but roll his eyes at the two. It was just like his mother, to care for Joffrey every time he was in a mood.

"As I said before I was so rudely interrupted, you will not be executed brother." A smirk crept on his smug face that made Silas feel a bit uneasy. "You are to be sold off instead."

"What!" Silas responded outraged at what he heard his brother say. "What do you mean 'sold off'?"

The smirk on Joffrey's face only got wider as he watched his older brother look more upset.

"It means exactly what I said. Personally, I wanted to kill you and put your head on a spike beside Ned Stark's for being the traitor that you are. I would love nothing more than to see your head there.”

“However, your brother the council and I thought it a better that you not be killed here,” Cersei continued for Joffrey, finally speaking to her eldest son from her seat beside the throne. “It wouldn’t look so well for the crown. So, it has been decided by the small council the King and myself to sell you to a slaver from Essos where you will live the rest of your days as their slave for your punishment for what you have done."

Silas couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe his mother would agree to something like this. He knew she didn’t love him like her other three children but he was still her child as well. She still had to have some love for him deep within her heart.

"Mother," he muttered to her. She didn't respond and looked away when he addressed her, so he spoke louder. "Mother! Look at me!

Cersei finally moved her green eyes to him, the same eyes as her distraught firstborn before her. For the first time in a long time, he saw tears welling up in her eyes. She kept that same stern look of hers but he could see the light tears forming in the corners of her almond shaped eyes.

"Mother, please don't do this," Silas told her as calmly as he could, tears of his own beginning to fall down his cheeks. "I am your son."

"I know you are my son," she said softly to him. "But you…you acted against the crown...against your own family. That cannot go unpunished."

“I did what I thought was in the best interest of Westeros! For our family!” Silas exclaimed loudly, hoping that his mother would understand why he did what he did. “I wanted to avoid this war, to stop it from happening!”

Silas turned his hateful glare to his younger brother.

“But you…you had to execute Ned Stark and now the entire North has risen against the crown, against you. Congratulations brother, in the span of a week being King you plunged the Seven Kingdoms into civil war. You must be so proud of yourself.”

Joffrey was about to say something when Cersei intervened between the siblings.

“The Starks started this war when they took your uncle Tyrion captive, your own flesh and blood before they turned you against your own family,” Cersei exclaimed as if it justified her actions. “Ned Stark had admitted to these crimes before his execution—”

“He lied!” Silas hollered, his voice ringing throughout the spacious empty throne room. “He lied because he was promised a life of exile and the safety of his daughters! All because he found the truth about—”

“ENOUGH!” The Queen mother yelled, her emerald eyes glared warningly at her eldest boy as he stood silenced by the sudden change of tone. “That has nothing to do with what you did. You committed high treason, a crime punishable by death but for you Silas, we have decided to be lenient because, despite everything, you are family.”

Silas scoffed in response to his mother’s words. His mother didn’t know the meaning of the word, this situation being a perfect example.

“So, how are you going to get away with this?” Silas asked, the question directed at his mother. “I am the Crown Prince and heir to Casterly Rock. You cannot honestly believe that my absence will go unnoticed, especially by Lord Tywin.”

“Everyone that is of note will know where you have gone,” Cersei responded to her son’s words with her trademark smirk as she looked down upon Silas. “That you, by our mercy have been granted what you wished, to leave Westeros and have taken a ship across the Narrow Sea to live out the rest of your days in exile in Essos. You have already packed to leave.”

“What I wished?” Silas muttered the words in a low voice. _How does she know that I wanted to leave? How does she even know I had already packed my things?_

Then it hit him. There was only one other person that knew of his plans to leave before all of this happened and that person stood behind his mother.

“You told her?” Silas snarled angrily at Lord Varys.

The Master of Whispers remained unflinching where he stood, even still when Silas tried to charge at him for betraying him. The Kingsguard that brought him in restrained Silas before he could go too far.

“Do you honestly think your father will believe that I was exiled? I am his heir. He will send out search parties to look for me and will find out sooner or later where I really am.”

“Not if we are in charge of the search for you,” Cersei snickered her response. “Your grandfather will look to us to search for you and when he eventually tires from the search, he will look to another to replace you, perhaps Tommen will become heir to Casterly Rock, and you, my son, will fade from memory be forgotten by all.”

Cersei motioned for one of the kingsguard to open one of the doors on the side and invite a man into the throne room.

The man clearly wasn't from Westeros, that much Silas was certain. He was a short fat man with dark olive skin that wore a light green robe that danced around his feet with each step he took. He was accompanied by two tall bulky men wearing armor that stayed behind him.

"Your Grace, your Grace," the man said addressing both Joffrey and Cersei as he bowed as far as his fat belly would allow him. "My name is Omdek zo Luqizn, I believe Lord Baelish has spoken to you about me."

"Yes, he has," Cersei spoke softly to the newcomer, faking a smile to him. "I believe everything is in order?"

"Yes, it is your Grace," the short man smiled, revealing two gold teeth shining in his wide mouth. "All we require now is the boy, and then we will be on our way."

"Good good, now let's make this official shall we" Joffrey smiled as he stood up from the throne and cleared his throne. "Silas Baratheon, for your crimes of treason by conspiring with Lord Eddard Stark to denounce my claim to the throne and take the crown for yourself to assume the title of King, I Joffrey of Houses Baratheon and Lannister, first of my name, King of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm strip you of your title of prince and any claims that come with the title and banish you from this country. Should you ever step on this land again, you will be killed. May the Gods have mercy on your new life."

Joffrey nodded to the foreign man. The foreigner snapped his fingers and his two bodyguards marched over to Silas.

When the two men grabbed him, Silas struggled from their strong grasp in a final attempt to escape. Just as he was about to be freed he felt a quick sharp blow his head and fell to the hard stone floor, dazed and lightheaded. The guards picked him up again now that he wasn't struggling anymore.

Silas looked around as his sight came back to focus and saw the man, Omdek zo Luquizn, standing with a wooden baton in his hands. Knowing that he could not escape now, he turned back to his mother and brother, a look of pure anger and hatred clearly expressed on his face.

"You better pray to the God's that I die out there," Silas imparted his family, his menacingly calm voice trembling with the fury he felt, each word getting louder and louder. "Because I will come back! **I SWEAR TO THE OLD GOD'S THE NEW GOD'S AND EVERY FUCKING GOD OUT THERE, I SWEAR I WILL COME BACK AND KILL EVERY ONE OF YOU!"**

The last thing Silas saw was his mother standing before he felt a second painful blow to his head before being knocked unconscious.

A cold wave of water splashed over him, waking Silas from his unconsciousness. His body shivered from the freezing cold as another splash of salty sea water hit his back and he realized he was in the bowels of a ship. The rocking ship smelled terrible with the mixture of piss and shit mingled with the stench of vomit and the salty air of the ocean they were sailing on.

He looked up to find that his hands were still in manacles hooked to the low ceiling. Frantically, he began to pull his hands down, trying to break the binding but to no avail. After a while, he gave up and looked around his surroundings and found a dozen or so men and women in the same predicament as him.

"Good teh see yer alive. Thought yeh were dead fer a while there." Silas heard a gruff voice and turned his gaze ahead of him to find a man staring back at him.

"How long have I been out?" he asked the man. A splash of freezing water washed over him again making gasp at the coldness that felt like daggers stabbing at his back.

"A few days, three at most," the man answered him. He looked at Silas up and down, examining closely. "Fancy lookin' clothes yer wearing. Must be a Lords bastard eh boy? Your Lord father got tired of takin’ care of yeh’?"

"No," Silas responded briskly, "I am a Prince, son of the late King Robert Baratheon."

The man stared at him silently for a moment before cackling a raspy laugh.

"Oh yeah? Then I am the God of fuckin' tits and wine. Welcome to slavery."

-

-

One of the guards shoved Silas forward, interrupting his train of thought to make him move again down the long stone hallway.

_“Get a move on fucker! We haven’t got all day!”_ The fat guard snarled and butted the handle of his whip on the back of Silas’ head causing him to stumble a few steps forward.

Silas turned back around to the fat guard and glared at him menacingly. His taller and stronger physique shadowed over the guard’s shorter fatter stature.

Silas could see the fear in the fat guard’s expression as he stared him down. These two men were cowards, all bark and no bite as they both have been described by all the other slave fighters and even the other guards as well.

The skinnier guard unlatched the wooden bludgeon from his belt and brandished it at Silas.

_“That’s enough. Keep walking slave!”_  the guard warned Silas as he held out the weapon. _“You don’t want to explain to Master Kraznys why you got beaten do you?”_

Silas took in a deep breath and exhaled a sigh that gradually calmed him. As much as he wanted to hit both of these men, he knew it wasn’t allowed. He is a slave and no longer has any rights, no longer considered a human being. If he struck these men, he would most likely get a beating from his own master or worse be executed, and Silas did not want to die here, as a slave.

With every ounce of will power he had, Silas swallowed that anger and turned forward and continued his march back to his master's palace on the other side of the city.

 

-

-

The training yard was alive with the wooden clattering of practice weapons being used by the rest of Master Kraznys’ slave fighters as they trained for their upcoming battles.

Silas walking across the yard with four of the five other fighters that joined him in the pits that day. Tizam was the only man to die from his fight.

The other fighters took notice of their arrival and greeted them with cheers and banged their weapons on their shields and on the sand-covered floor, a greeting all fighters are treated to when arriving victoriously.

One of the fighters, young man named Aros and the only other friend Silas has made during his enslavement. Aros is the same age as Silas with slightly darker skin than him and short dark brown hair caught up with the young fighter and walked beside him.

“Tizam didn’t make it?” Aros asked Silas as he walked with his practice sword resting on his shoulder and wooden shield hanging low on his left arm.

Silas responded with a shake of his head to his friend. “Those fuckers paired him to fight against that beast Lyseo. Can you believe it? It wasn’t even a fair fight.”

Aros cursed loudly in his native tongue and threw down his practice weapons onto the sand.

“Tizam was a good man,” Aros responded when he calmed down from the news of his deceased friend. “We will all drink in his honor as all fighters are honored when they die. His name will not soon be forgotten.”

Aros has been a slave fighter much longer than Silas and has been fighting in the pits since he was sixteen. This life, losing friends to the pits was something that Aros has gotten used to but for Silas, it was still a new feeling that he has yet to get used to himself. Drinking to Tizam’s memory wasn’t what he wanted.

“It’s good that you’re back though,” Aros told him as the two walked through the archway that led to the cells. “I wouldn’t have expected anything less from Death’s Bastard.”

Silas knew his friend was trying to cheer him up, but the death of a close friend was weighing too heavy on him. Usually, he was paired with Tizam in their fights and this one would have been no different but for some unknown reason his master wanted them separated and fight on their own. Something told Silas that there was gold involved in this sudden change, it usually was.

Silas felt a hand on his shoulder that made him stop walking any further. He turned around to see Aros staring back at him, a look of concern upon his dirt-smeared face.

“I am sorry about Tizam, I truly am,” Aros responded honestly. “He was a great friend and he will be missed dearly but we can be assured in knowing he is free from this place as we all hope to be.”

“Thank you, brother,” Silas gave his friend a quick reassuring smile to his friend. “You’re right. Tizam is now free of this hell. I just hope I can avenge his death someday.”

With those final words, the two parted ways as Silas walked to his room and Aros went back to the training yard to finish the days training.

-

-

Silas' room is a small square room big enough for a small bed a table and chair and a water basin to wash the dirt and sweat and blood from himself with a small damp rag hanging from the basin’s edge. He and a scant few of his master’s fighters were granted their own personal chambers away from the other general rabble of slave fighters that shared their cells with each other.

Silas had washed himself clean from the blood sweat and dirt from the days fight and removed the dirty clothes and replaced them with a thin grey sleeveless tunic that covered the brand of his master’s family burned into the skin on his chest, and black cotton trousers and slipped on a pair of black leather boots that stopped just below his knees.

The armor he wore is a sturdy black leather body armor that covered his torso with a single steel pauldron strapped to his left shoulder. His arms and shins were protected by leather bracers and greaves plated with steel for that extra protection.

The wooden door of his small room opened as he adjusted the slave collar around his neck when one of his master’s personal house guards walked in, telling him to hurry. When he stepped outside, the guard passed Silas his weapons, two swords, not extravagant to the eye but sharp enough to cut through the thickest man in half like butter, and that suited him just fine.

Silas took the swords and placed them through the leather straps on the back of his armor where they rested crossing each other before making his way into the palace to meet with his master.

-

-

Even beside the endless clear blue ocean, the late midday air still felt hot and thick with moisture as the sun beamed down on Silas when he stood behind his owner, Master Kraznys mo Nakloz, a bald repulsive man that treated his slaves like dirt. Beside him stood his master's other slave, a young pretty woman no older than Silas named Missandei. She has the honor of being Kraznys' personal translator.

Kraznys let out an annoyed sigh as he paced about.

" _How long is this bitch going to keep me waiting?_ " The master spat in his gruff native tongue. " _I have a mind to leave —_ "

" _Master, there she is,_ " Silas interrupted his Master's before he could rant any further. Normally, he would have been punished for that, but there was no time and the slaver was too occupied with searching for the Mother of Dragons in the bustling plaza.

Silas pointed ahead and his master's beady black eyes followed where they found her, Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen walking towards them.

She wasn't hard to find. Her long silvery blonde hair, a common trait in her family, glistened in the sunlight that made her stand out amongst the other people going about their day.

Daenerys Targaryen was beautiful beyond words, Silas thought to himself as she walked closer towards them. Her long silvery blonde hair danced in the oceans strong breeze around her serious yet lovely face and her curvy hips naturally swayed from side to side on her petite slender body as she marched over to them.

Silas shifted his green-eyed gaze from the ethereally beautiful woman to the two men in her small entourage she brought with her.

He first examined the man walking on her right, a gruff looking balding middle-aged man that wore a breastplate with a bear insignia in the center that Silas recognized as the bear of House Mormont. 

This must be Ser Jorah Mormont, he thought to himself, remembering hearing about him during the small council meetings he attended when he sat in for his father, which was on a regular basis.

Silas turned his attention to the other man. His eyes widened in disbelief as he watched the man on the Dragon Queens left.

The man's face looked more aged and wrinkled since Silas last saw him and he was no longer clean shaven with a short thick white beard covering his jaw and cheeks but Silas could never forget the face of one of Westeros' most famous Knights and the man that had taught him to swordfight. He could never forget the face of Ser Barristan Selmy, or Barristan the bold as he is commonly known.

He didn't think he'd ever see Ser Barristan again since he was dismissed as Commander of the Kingsguard or anyone else from his former life for that matter. _Of all the places, I find him here in Astapor, with the Mother of Dragons no less._

A sudden thought came to mind. He didn't want to be seen like this, a slave protecting his slaver, especially by a familiar face but there was no place for him to hide.

_"Mother of Dragons! Welcome to Astapor!"_ Kraznys greeted the newcomers with a fake smile when the small group caught up with them.

Missandei spoke to them to translate their master's words to the Targaryen girl.

Silas kept his head lowered but as soon as he looked up, he saw the famous knight staring back at him wide-eyed. Ser Barristan took a sudden step forward and opened his mouth to speak but stopped when Silas discreetly put a hand up and made a shushing motion with his finger to keep the aged knight from speaking. The old knight seemed reluctant but gave the former prince the briefest of nods and turned to follow the now moving group to the other side of the Plaza of Pride where the Unsullied were being kept.

Kraznys the entire walk boasting about the Unsullied as they crossed through the crowded Plaza of Pride. Silas stayed behind his master, as he should, with Missandei staying close to their master to make sure she could hear everything Kraznys was saying.

Daenerys Targaryen walked beside their master and listened, or at least tried to listen to what Missandei translated for her. She seemed too preoccupied with the people around her to listen to the young slave. The young Queen watched the city's nobles strutting like they owned the world while their slaves cowered behind them like broken dogs and kept their heads down to avoid any eye contact as to not anger their masters.

Ser Jorah kept a close eye on the young woman he had sworn his life to and stayed close behind her. Too close, in Silas' opinion. The exiled knight kept a hand on the hilt of his sword, anticipating any unexpected attack that could happen. Silas could understand why. This young girl has spent her entire life being hunted down by assassins sent to kill her and her brother, most of them were from his father. Her life is always in danger, even more so since she now has three dragons in her possession. People from all over the world would kill her just to have her dragons. Constant vigilance was the only way she would be safe.

Silas kept a good distance between himself and his master as Kraznys discussed the well-known warriors. Kraznys didn't like being followed too close which was fine with Silas. The feeling was very mutual.

At times, Silas noticed Daenerys would at times have an annoyed looked whenever Master Kraznys said something before Missandei could translate it that made him swear she could understand what the slaver was saying to her and about her. That man really needs to stop calling her a bitch and a whore.

"It's good to see you again Ser Barristan," Silas muttered just loud enough for the old Knight to hear. The rest of the group was a good distance ahead and with the loud noise of the plaza all around them, there was no way they could be heard by the others.

"I could say the same thing, my Prince." The gruff old Knight retorted with the smallest hint of a smile hidden beneath his thick white beard.

The younger man chuckled. "Ser Barristan, you don't have to call me Prince. I no longer have the honor to carry that title anymore. Just call me Silas."

"Sorry, my Prince— I mean Silas. It's a force of habit."

The two men quickly stopped their conversation when Ser Jorah turned around for a moment and glanced over at them. He frowned at the two before returning to the young Queen he stood beside.

"I have to say, this is the last place I would imagine seeing an honorable knight such as you."

"I could say the same," Ser Barristan responded back. "How did you—"

"It's a long story," Silas interrupted the knight. He remembered that Ser Barristan was already gone when his banishment to this hell of a life was sentenced on him.

"Well then, you'll just have to tell me when I free you."

The young man quickly turned his head, the shocked expression on his face clear for the former commander of his father's Kingsguard to see. He didn't say anything as he took the moment to comprehend what he heard. For over the past two years, he has lived enslaved to a terrible man, dreaming of the day he would win his freedom. Now after all this time, it could happen.

"Ser Barristan, I…I don't know what to say," Silas stuttered when he finally spoke again. "But How—"

"I will speak with her Grace," Ser Barristan proposed to him. "She could use someone like you by her side."

The knight sounded so confident as he said the words, that Silas thought it was already a done deal. However, a feeling of unease swirled in the pit of his stomach as he realized something. _My father is the reason she has to raise an army to gain back her families legacy. She has to fight against my family to take the Iron Throne from my family._

"As long as she doesn't know who I really am," Silas mumbled. Though he strove to be as opposite of his father, Silas knew that he couldn't completely change who he is, the son of Robert Baratheon, the man who rebelled against the family of Daenerys Targaryen, who killed her brother Rhaegar with a swing of his Warhammer. He doubted Daenerys Targaryen would even allow him to live much less join her army.

Nevertheless, this is the first opportunity he has had to reclaim his freedom, he would be foolish to not take the chance.

After giving it much thought, Silas nodded to the old Knight walking beside him.

Silas couldn't help but gaze at the young beautiful exotic Queen from time to time as they walked through the plaza. He heard about her beauty from others who have seen her but their descriptions didn't do her justice. Seeing her here, right now, Silas truly couldn't believe how gorgeous she is. He's met many beautiful women, in court and as a slave, but none of them compared to the woman before him, examining the army of Unsullied standing at attention.

At one point, Silas found the Targaryen Queen's bright amethyst eyes wandering towards him occasionally herself. Silas quickly looked away, staring anywhere else as if he was examining the perimeter and stood taller to make himself look more professional. Even looking away from her, he could still feel her eyes on him, inspecting him up and down.

Daenerys quickly averted her eyes when she heard Kraznys ask her a question.

"The good Master Kraznys asks if you think they are magnificent," Missandei asked her as they walked down the long row of Unsullied to make their way to the terrace ahead. The Unsullied remained silent and still as statues in their full armor and holding their round shield in one hand and a long spear in the other.

"They may be able to suit my needs," Daenerys answered back as she studied the motionless men around her. She turned back to Silas, who refused to make eye contact with her.

"You." Silas knew the young Queen was calling to him. Slowly, he turned his green gaze back to her serious yet calm expression. "What do you think of these soldiers? Are they as good as your master claims they are?"

Before Silas could utter a word, Kraznys interrupted the conversation.

_"Tell the Dragon whore to ignore him and get back to the matter at hand. I haven't got all day to deal with her."_ Missandei nodded in response before turning back to their guest.

"Master Kraznys implores that you do not speak to him. He is only a bodyguard and a slave and that if you have any questions regarding the Unsullied he would be more than happy to answer them for you."

"He appears to be more than just a slave if the good master trusts him enough to carry weapons and protect his life."

A hint of a smile crossed his lips as Silas stood there watching his master grow more irritated with the girl. However, his anger quickly waned as he walked over toward Silas and placed a hand on his shoulder.

_"He is a fighter in the pits. That makes him more than a common slave,"_ Master Kraznys replied arrogantly. _"He isn't even among the best of my fighters yet he is still better than those from other houses. They have named him 'Death's Bastard' because no one lives when he enters the arena."_

"Then he is a fighter, is he not?" Daenerys questioned after hearing Missandei's watered down version of their Master's dialogue. "I only wanted an opinion from another warrior."

Kraznys huffed in annoyance as he wiped the sweat from his bald head. He wasn't used to having a patron so… opinionated, especially when it's a woman.

_"This Westerosi whore needs to hurry up and make her decision already and not worry about the opinions of slaves."_

Silas rolled his eyes. He was tired of how his Master was talking to her. He was tired of his Master all together.

Missandei was about to speak when Silas intervened and cleared his throat as he stepped forward into the crowd.

"It would be a wise move to purchase the Unsullied," Silas began explaining. Daenerys stared at him, her amethyst gaze watched him intently as he continued to speak.

"Their fighting skills are unbound. They learn from a young age and the continuous training they go through keeps their skills sharp. I have personally seen them in action and can assure you they will be money well spent."

Silas glanced at his Master. The man glared daggers with his bead black eyes at his slave's insubordination but Silas didn't care and turned his gaze back to the young woman before him and continued onward.

"Besides fighting, obedience is the only other thing they know. The Unsullied will follow any order you give them to the letter. They would kill themselves if you ordered them, without a second thought. They will not rape or go rogue and disobey your orders, a chance that might happen should you hire mercenaries or other soldiers of fortune. All questions have been taken away from them. Once they are yours, they belong to you. The Unsullied will not follow anyone else."

When he finished speaking, Silas waited for the young Queen to give her response. She just stood there for a bit, still looking at him. Her expression remained the same stern serious expression she had the whole time, giving him no hint of her decision.

"And that is your honest opinion?" Daenerys asked him sternly, finally speaking.

Silas nodded his head. "It is, your Grace. I have seen them in action and have seen them do whatever task they were ordered to do, even if they knew it was impossible."

The young Queen watched him a few moments as if trying to see if he was being truthful or not until she turned away from him and giving her attention to Missandei.

"Tell the good Master I appreciate the time he took for me today and showed me the Unsullied." Daenerys kindly told the young slave.

"Tell him I will come back tomorrow with my final decision." Missandei nodded and translated the young Targaryen's words for the nobleman.

Kraznys nodded in agreement before bidding her good evening and ordered his two slaves to follow back to his palace.

The three bowed to the young Queen before departing to make their way through the plaza of pride.

When Silas walked past Ser Barristan, he gave him a quick nod and the old knight did the same.

Ser Barristan said he will speak with Daenerys Targaryen about freeing me. Well, he isn't called Barristan the bold for nothing. _As long as she doesn't know who I truly am, I might have a chance to be freed from this life of slavery._

 

-

-

 

 

The sun had already begun to set when Ser Barristan Daenerys Targaryen and Ser Jorah arrived back onto their ship docked in the harbor. Once they got back onto the small ship, the old knight went down below to his small cabin to relax.

As he lied there on his small cot, he thought about the young man he has watched grow up. He couldn’t believe he found Silas, here in Astapor. He had heard rumors that Silas was banished after his unsuccessful attempt to take the throne from his brother but he never realized what they truly did to him.

Silas looks so much like his father, the old knight thought to himself. Though the boy indeed looked a lot like his father physically, he couldn't be more different from the man. That mop of black hair had grown long and unruly as the boy grew taller himself. Silas didn't have his father's broad build, no, he was lean built like his mother's side of the family, the Lannister side. Silas had the same emerald green colored eyes of his mother's as well.

Silas was no longer the boy he used to watch over for seventeen years. That boyish face he had was now marred with scars and bruises from his past fights he was forced to do and a scruffy dark beard covered his strong squared jaw that was once kept clean-shaven.

The cheerful smile that Silas always had was gone, the years of being a slave and forced to kill other people must be weighing down heavily on the young man.

All the knight could think about was how to get Silas out of this terrible life that his mother and brother sold him into. He owed him that much.

Ser Barristan thought that he could have stopped all this from happening, back in the throne room two years ago. He could have at least tried to help the young Prince stand up against his mother and brother that day.

_That boy looked up to me as a hero and I couldn't save him the one time he truly needed me. If I had just spoken up and defended Silas, he wouldn't be here as a slave, Ser Barristan thought to himself as he stared up at the wooden ceiling above him. Now, I have that chance to save him and I will not fail him this time._

A quick rap on the door took the old knight from his thoughts and got up from the cot to cross over and open the door.

Ser Barristan stepped back in mild surprise to see Ser Jorah standing in the doorway.

"The Queen has called a meeting, she's requiring your presence right away," The exiled knight informed Ser Barristan.

Before he could respond, Ser Jorah turned away and walked back up the wooden steps to the deck.

The way Ser Jorah had spoken to him just now, he sounded indifferent toward him. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence between the two of them. Ser Jorah didn't hide his dislike toward the former commander of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard, especially when it was just the two of them.

Ser Barristan gave a heavy sigh before walking through the doorway and followed the other knight to the deck of the ship.

The Queen wasn't in her cabin. Instead, she took solace in the open air of the deck. She leaned forward, her slender arms resting on the wooden guard rails of the ship as she looked out to the dark purple sky. The sun slowly descending behind the wide horizon of the vast ocean.

Ser Jorah was already by her side, protecting her.

The heavy footsteps of the old Knights boots caught the young woman's attention as she turned to the newcomer.

"Your Grace," Ser Barristan formally greeted her with a bow. "You sent for me?"

The young Queen nodded. "I know that you are not too fond of the Unsullied. But now that you have seen them in person and heard of their skills, I hoped that you might have a change of heart about them now."

Ser Barristan didn't like the idea of purchasing loyalty. That's what it will be if Daenerys gets her unsullied. She herself isn't sure of these soldiers she too knows that she will be buying slaves, making her no better than the others. However, unlike the others, he knew that she wouldn't mistreat them or wouldn't keep them as slaves. Once she gets them, he knows that she would give them their freedom.

"I do not like the idea of purchasing people to fight for a cause that isn't theirs," Ser Barristan began slowly, choosing his words carefully. "However, they are a means to an end. If what that boy says is true of the Unsullied, then I believe they are what you need to begin building your army."

The Queen gave him a nod of approval, a kind smile crossed her gentle face.

"Thank you, Ser Barristan, I appreciate your opinion and have made my decision to purchase them. With the Unsullied fighting for me, I will have a great start on my army."

Ser Barristan nodded in agreement. The three fell silent as they watched the warm distant sun finally vanish under the ocean and the sky changed colors to a dark navy blue with bright stars dotting the darkness above them.

"You know that boy, don't you?" Daenerys asked suddenly, breaking the silence between the three. The old Knight quickly looked between the curious face of his Queen and the confused expression of Ser Jorah. Not knowing how to respond, he remained silent.

"I noticed you talking to him while we were walking through the Plaza of Pride," She explained kindly, her sweet smile glowing in the bright moonlight.

He couldn't lie to her. He shouldn't lie to her. Ser Barristan didn't want her to get angry when she finds out who Silas is. However, if he doesn't tell her the truth, she could possibly think he isn't of real importance and ignore him.

_I promised to set him free,_ Ser Barristan told himself. This could be my only chance. The Queen could use a man like Silas by her side. With the connections he has with the people of Westeros, not to mention their love and respect, he will be more useful to her than her army.

Finally making a quick decision on what to do, he exhaled a deep breath before responding to his Queen's question.

"Yes your Grace it is true, I know the boy. Very well, actually."

"The old knight paused for a moment, deciding to be careful as he chose his next words. He had to admit, he was getting a bit nervous. He was a great fighter but talking, negotiating and convincing, was never really his strong point.

The young Queen continued to smile at him. She poured some wine into three goblets she had set up on a silver tray atop a barrel beside her. She passed her two Knights each a goblet and all of them took a sip of the delicious fruity wine.

Ser Barristan took a hearty gulp of the sweet wine. I really needed that.

"I've known him for a long time. In fact, I've known him since he was born."

Ser Jorah paused mid drink, as did Daenerys after hearing his words.

"Who is he?" Daenerys asked, her voice thick with suspicion. The warm kind smile faltered back to a frown on her beautiful face as she glared at her commander of her Queensguard. "Who is that boy, Ser Barristan?"

The old knight sighed, knowing he had to tell her the truth. It would come out sooner or later and it would be better if he told her himself.

"His name is Silas, the eldest son of Robert Baratheon."

"What!" Ser Jorah exclaimed, outraged at what he had just heard from the other knight but Ser Barristan paid him no mind. It wasn't his opinion that he cared for but the opinion of the Queen before him, silently glaring at him not uttering a single word.

Daenerys seemed to be deep in thought as she tried to grasp the information given to her.

"Your Grace?" Ser Barristan asked. He couldn't take the tension that surrounded them.

The Queen took a sip of her wine before finally responding to her knight.

"Why is the eldest son of Robert Baratheon here in Astapor?" she sternly asked him. "Did the Usurper run out of assassins before he died that he had to send his own son to kill me? He seems to have hit a snag when he became a slave. Unless that's his cover."

"He isn't here to kill you, your Grace, I can assure you," Ser Barristan explained to the young woman. "It was his father that held the grudge against your family, not Silas."

The old knight took a step closer to his Queen but Ser Jorah stepped in his way, blocking his way to Daenerys. The exiled Knights glared at each other as they both stood their ground, trying to intimidate one another.

"Are you sure about that Ser Barristan?" Ser Jorah asked him briskly. "The boy is half Baratheon and half Lannister. Both families committed heinous crimes during the rebellion and the boy carries both their blood in his veins."

"Yes, I am sure," the old Knight stated confidently. "He might have their blood but he spent his life determined not to be just like them."

Ser Barristan turned away from the gruff Knight to Daenerys still looking at him with a scolding gaze in her beautiful violet eyes.

"My Queen," Ser Barristan continued when Daenerys remained silent. "I know what you must think of Silas. His father rebelled against and killed your family. You must think he is another Robert Baratheon but I can say with honesty that he is not like his father, thank the Gods. He does not deserve to have this life, the life of a slave."

"So I should, what? Free him? Have him join my cause to take back the Iron Throne?"

Ser Barristan didn't answer her right away. Even though that was exactly what he was going to say.

"Your Grace, I had hoped that you would consider bringing him into the fold with us."

Daenerys let out a little laugh and Ser Jorah chuckled along with her.

"You are bold indeed Ser Barristan, asking our Queen to allow the spawn of the Usurper to join with us. Snow would fall in Dorne before that will ever happen."

Ser Barristan turned back to the young Queen who watched him still.

"He is right Ser Barristan, as are you. His father rebelled against my family. He is the son of the man who killed my brother, a man you have praised on more than one account. You were there, were you not? When my noble brother was killed by that brute of a man?"

"Not only that," Ser Jorah chimed in. "He shares the familial blood with Jaime Lannister, the man who put his sword through the back of her father, the King he was sworn to protect. His own Grandfather, Tywin Lannister ordered the death of Rhaegar's wife and children and set his mad dog Gregor Clegane to butcher them!"

Ser Barristan remained silent. He couldn't deny all those things as false. Everyone, from as high as the Noble Lords to as low as the homeless peasants knew what had happened near the end of the rebellion. They knew what happened to the Targaryen's that remained in Kings Landing and what the Lannister's had done in the end.

He heard how Robert praised Lord Tywin instead of punishing him for the deaths of Elia Martell and her two children.

"I think Robert Baratheon's son is right where he belongs Ser Barristan," Daenerys coldly answered the knight.

"No, My Queen. Forgive me for disagreeing with you but Silas doesn't deserve this life,” Ser Barristan exclaimed. The old man's expression became sullen. "I have to free him from this life."

Dany could see the sadness in his grey eyes. Her hardened serious expression softened as she thought of herself and her family. She was the daughter of the King Aerys, second of his name but was commonly known as the Mad King. Her father was crazy and loved to watch people burn alive. His blood ran through her veins, yet she wasn't stricken with the madness that plagued her father. She was living proof that you don't have to be like your family.

"Why do you say that?" Dany asked her Knight before her. "Why do you have to free him?"

"Because, it's my fault that he is here," Ser Barristan answered back somberly. His head lowered and his eyes stared down at the dark damp wood of the deck floor.

“Why is it your fault?” the young Queen asked the knight. “Why is the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms a slave in the first place?”

A moment of silence passed between the three on the deck. Ser Barristan was hesitant to respond to the Queen's question but he knew he could not lie to her about this but he could not very well tell her that Silas tried to take the throne from his own brother either.

An idea came to him that would ensure that he could, in fact, tell the truth without telling the whole truth to the young Queen.

“Cersei Lannister hated her husband, the King,” Ser Barristan began his explanation. “So much so that her hatred extended to her son. All his life, Silas has had to endure his mother’s wrath. I have seen him try his hardest to gain her love that he should not have had to earn but it was never enough for her. Eventually, he stopped trying to please her and follow his own path but that only angered her more. When she could no longer control him, she sent him away to be enslaved.”

Daenerys sat in silence, taking in the information Ser Barristan had just given her until she finally spoke up.

"This boy, how can I trust someone like him around me?"

The old knight's head snapped back up to meet the Queen's violet eyes. Her question sounded as if she was trying to make a decision about Silas. He could feel the sensation of hope filling him as he gazed back at her.

"I have watched Silas grow since the day he was born. I've watched him grow into one of the finest men I have met."

Dany was about to say something when Ser Barristan continued.

"I know you must think he is just like his father. Most people thought so too before they met Silas. But he is different. He knew what kind of man his father really was and saw how it angered his mother, so he strove to make sure that he never became like his father, and he is indeed very different from him. There were times when I couldn't believe that Silas was Robert's son."

Daenerys breathed a heavy sigh as the old knight finished his speech for her. She didn't look angry anymore like she did earlier but he could tell she was still unconvinced.

With one last desperate attempt to change her mind, Ser Barristan got down on one knee.

"My Queen, to prove to you that Silas is a good man, I would lay down my life."

"You would stake your life on the Usurper's son?" Ser Jorah jeered at him. "Even if the Queen agreed with you, what would she need of a banished Prince?"

"His influence." Ser Barristan answered him shortly. He gave the other knight a quick glare before turning back to the Queen leaning against the wooden railing.

"His influence?" Daenerys repeated.

"Yes your Grace," the old Knight nodded and got back up on his feet. "Silas was loved by the people, Lords and peasants alike. He cared for them and listened to their grievances and helped them when he could."

Ser Jorah scoffed mockingly but Ser Barristan ignored him, not caring for his opinion. He only cared for one person's opinion and she still remained unconvinced.

The old knight exhaled a deep breath before continuing his attempt to coerce his Queen to see his way.

"You cannot just conquer Westeros and believe the people will follow you, my Queen." Ser Barristan clarified to her. "To them, you are the unknown foreigner attacking them with your army and three dragons."

You are a Targaryen. The last Targaryen ruler everyone remembered on the Iron Throne was a mad Targaryen who loved to burn people alive. Westeros will not blindly follow you just because your family built the Iron Throne and ruled the Seven Kingdoms. You will need to make allies, people who believe in your cause if you wish to succeed and Silas Baratheon is the man that can help you with that."

Daenerys didn't say anything to Ser Barristan and her expression remained calm and free of emotions, giving him no hint of what she could be thinking.

The young Queen turned away from the Knights and looked out to the black sea. She leaned her body forward and relaxed her arms on the railing, crossing them together.

Ser Barristan calmly waited for an answer. He knew it had to be a tough decision for her to make. All her life, Dany was running from Robert Baratheon's assassins. She has no reason or obligation to allow the Usurper's son to join them but she must realize that without the support of Westeros, she cannot rule Westeros. Silas will be the key to help her gain that support.

The deck was silent. Only the sounds of the strong salty sea breeze whistling around them and the water lapping against the walls of the ship with each passing wave below.

It seemed like a while before Daenerys spoke up.

"All my life, I've had to run because Robert Baratheon sent assassins after my brother and me. I lived every day in fear that that day might be my last, because of his want to completely destroy my family. I was never able to call a home my own. I was constantly running from one city to the next, begging and pleading for food and shelter."

Dany stepped away from the damp railing and walked over to the old Knight. She gently placed a cool hand on the old man's shoulder.

"I could never trust a son of Robert Baratheon. I will find aide elsewhere."

With those final words, she gave her knight one more look before walking away to her cabin. Ser Jorah soon followed suit and made his way toward the steps, leaving Ser Barristan standing alone on the deck.

The old Knight closed his grey eyes inhaled a deep breath that he exhaled slowly. The feelings of failure and disappointment of being denied filled his body.

Slowly, he stepped forward toward the railing and looked out to the endless black ocean.

"I am so sorry Silas," the knight said to himself, not caring if he was overheard. "I will get you out of here. So please just…just hang on a little while longer."

Ser Barristan slouched his shoulders as he leaned closer onto the railing and ran his hands through his short snow white hair in frustration.

Being too engrossed in his own thoughts, the old Knight didn't notice a figure lurking in the shadows behind him, hearing everything the old knight had said and made sure the Master of Whispers was informed of this new development.


	2. Welcome to the army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas is in the fight for his life and Daenerys makes an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Here's the second chapter and I hope you enjoy the read!

 

**The Other Prince**

 

**CH.2**

 

**Welcome to the Army**

 

 

Ser Barristan leaned lazily onto the wooden railing of the gently rocking ship as he watched the deep orange light of the sun slowly rising behind the horizon of the ocean, bringing with it a brighter blue sky as morning dawned for a new day.

He didn't leave the deck to go to his cabin. He couldn't sleep. All he could think about was how he once again failed Silas to free him from his bondage forced upon him. He couldn't stand that there was nothing he could do.

Ser Barristan couldn't purchase his freedom, he didn't have the coin nor did he have enough time to acquire the amount needed. The Queen makes her decision that day to purchase the Unsullied and on the morrow, they take their leave from Astapor. There just wouldn't be enough time.

_ If anyone didn't deserve this life, it was Silas, _ Ser Barristan thought to himself sullenly.  _ He's a good lad. A sweet and kind-hearted boy. Why did the Gods forsake him and threw him into this life? _

Ser Barristan knew not to blame the Gods. The Gods don't care enough about the lives of mortals to do such things. It was that horrible mother of his.

The old Knight knew she had something, or everything, to do with Silas' enslavement. She never loved the boy, not like her other three children, especially Joffrey. Silas reminded her too much of Robert Baratheon in physical appearance but the boy couldn't be more different from his father.

Robert didn’t care much to be a father to any of his children, however, he seemed to favor Silas above his other children. It wasn't hard to like the boy, especially compared with his younger brother.

Yet Cersei seemed to favor Joffrey over Silas, no matter how hard the boy tried to win her affections.

He remembered when Silas eventually gave up on trying to vie for his for his mother's affections. It was sometime after Silas had suffered a terrible fall down a flight of steps that nearly killed him. It was he who found the young Prince on the ground of some empty corridor hardly used by the occupants of the Red Keep.

Silas lying on his back at the bottom of the long spiral staircase, the boy’s emerald eyes barely open and tears trailing down his blood and dirt smeared cheeks. The sight of the Prince’s leg twisted in a way it shouldn’t have churned his stomach as well as seeing the broken bone on Silas’ left arm protruding from the skin. The boy's mouth was opened wide with blood trickling from the corner of his trembling lips as he groaned in pain when the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard found the Prince.

Ser Barristan had been patrolling the corridors when he heard Silas' moans. He ran to the injured boy and yelled at the two other guards with him to get his mother and father. As quick as he could, he ran down the staircase and as carefully as he could, picked up Silas from the stone floor.

“Silas, stay awake,” The Knight told the young Prince as he carried the injured boy back up the long flight of stairs. “You’re going to be alright.”

Silas was barely conscious. His half-lidded bruised eyes flickered from the Knight to the rest of the surrounding area. 

By the time the Knight had reached the top of the stairs, the Knights had arrived with the Queen and her brother along with a gurney to carry Silas the rest of the way to the royal apartments where the healer was already waiting for them. 

When Ser Barristan placed Silas on the gurney, he glanced at the Queen who didn’t seem upset about her son. It was odd to him since the Queen was so protective of her other children. Cersei remained calm through the entire walk back to the apartments, not even uttering words of comfort to her son.

The days that followed were certainly an ordeal between the King and Queen, causing constant arguments about what they should do if Silas doesn’t fully recover. Silas had suffered from grievous injuries that caused him to slip into a state unconsciousness from which the Healer feared the Prince would not likely wake from and if by some miracle, he would most likely be crippled. The young Prince’s broken right leg had been twisted in such a way during the fall that the Healer was certain the leg would be useless and Silas’ left arm was broken as well, the bone tore through his skin that now had a long-jagged line of stitching to close the tear. 

Cersei wanted Robert to declare Joffrey as the next in line to the Iron Throne. Robert tried to dismiss her proposal and said that Silas will survive however Cersei claimed to Robert that if Silas somehow were to survive he would most likely be a cripple and be considered weak in the eyes of all the Lords and that they will use that to their advantage and rebel to take the throne from their son and destroy all that he has worked for. 

Robert wasn’t much for listening to Cersei but what she said did strike a nerve in the King and eventually, he agreed with her to remove Silas as his heir.

In the days that followed, Robert announced in the Throne room that Silas, because of his condition, was to be removed as his heir to the Iron Throne. That his second eldest, Joffrey, would assume the role as heir in his brother stead.

A couple of weeks after the incident, Ser Barristan was met with good news when he was informed that Silas has finally woken and took the time to pay him a visit during his free time. 

When the Knight walked down the hallway to Silas' room, he could hear voices coming from the room. By the sound of the voices, he could tell they were from Silas and his mother. The old Knight couldn't clearly make out what they were saying, but by the tone of the voices, the two of them were arguing.

"Silas, please…you must understand—"

**"JUST GET OUT! YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH TO ME ALREADY!”**

The Queen stormed out of her son's chambers and marched down the long corridor. Ser Barristan could see the Queen wiping away tears as she passed by him.

When he visited the Prince, Silas was sitting on one of his cushioned seats facing the open balcony. The boy’s right leg was propped up on a cushioned footstool wrapped in protective covers while his broken arm rested carefully in the sling draped on his chest. Silas’ face remained bruised and battered but the swelling on his eyes had decreased greatly since he last saw him.

Silas hadn’t noticed the Knight’s presence and kept his gaze forward at the scenery beyond the confines of his chambers. Ser Barristan could see he was still upset over the conversation but did not want to press the matter on Silas. The Prince was still recovering from his injuries and didn’t want to upset him any further but that still didn’t stop him from taking notice of the tears that ran down the Prince’s bruised cheeks. Things were never the same after that day.

After Silas recovered nearly half a year after the accident, his attitude changed completely, mostly towards his mother. No longer did he try to appease his mother, in fact, he all but ignored her. Whenever she spoke to him, Silas only responded with short curt answers, if he even responded to her at all. The only time he ever gave her any kind of attention willingly was when they hosted tourneys and celebrations, to appear to the public that they were a 'happy family'. 

His attitude toward his uncle Jaime had changed drastically as well. The young Prince used to enjoy spending time with his uncle and often sparred with the man during his training. After the accident, however, Silas became cold towards the man, even hostile through the Knight didn’t know the reason.

Ser Barristan assumed that Silas' change in attitude was due to him losing the throne to his brother. However, Silas never was fond of becoming the King to begin with, often telling him that he would rather do something more with his life than to sit on a throne growing fat and angry like his father. No, Silas wasn’t angry about being passed on for the crown. It was something more personal, something regarding himself and his mother.

"Ser Barristan."

The old Knight turned all the way around to see Irri, one of Daenerys' Dothraki handmaidens, standing a few paces behind him.

"Khaleesi wishes you to join her and Ser Jorah to eat," the handmaiden informed him. Her voice is thick with her Dothraki accent as she spoke the common tongue.

The old Knight nodded and followed Irri to the Queen's cabin.

Ser Jorah was already seated to the young Queens right.  _ 'Of course, he is already here before anyone else.' _ The Queen herself was at the head of the table, slicing into a piece of fruit on her plate when Ser Barristan entered the cabin.

The old Knight walked over to the only other available seat to the Queens left. He didn't sit down right away.

"Your Grace," he greeted Daenerys with a bow. When she motioned for him to sit, he scooted the chair out and sat down and filled his plate with food and silently ate.

"I was just telling Ser Jorah that I want to meet with Kraznys about the Unsullied around midday."

Ser Barristan nodded as he gulped down the food in his mouth.

"Sounds good, your Grace," the old Knight replied softly with a quick smile.

A few minutes passed with silence as the three of them ate breakfast.

Ser Barristan reached over to take a drink from his goblet when he felt Daenerys small soft hand upon his outstretched arm. Looking up, he saw his Queen's eyes staring back at him. They didn't hold a look of seriousness or anger but of sympathy for him.

"I know you are upset with my decision, Ser Barristan". The Young Queen told him kindly. "But I can't allow my enemies into my camp. I cannot take the chance of being betrayed or killed."

"I know my Queen," Ser Barristan softly said to her. He gently patted her hand and gave her a kind smile in response.

When he was done, Ser Barristan excused himself from the table and exited the cabin.

_ If only she could see past Silas' physical appearance, _ Ser Barristan thought to himself when he walked back up to the deck.  _ Then she could see that he is nothing like his father. Daenerys just doesn't know how important Silas is to her cause. _

  
  


-

-

The hot midday sun blazed high above the slave city when Dany and her two Knights walked down the long walkway known as the 'Walk of Punishment'. A fitting name for the walkway.

On one side along the walkway were slaves nailed to posts. Their bodies were covered in long deep whip lashes and blood all over, some old and dry while some lashes were fresh and blood trailed from the wounds.

It as a hard sight for Dany to see. She couldn't believe that people were capable of doing something like this to other people.  _ That's because slaves are not considered people to them, _ she thought to herself angrily.  _ That's something I will change before I am through with this place. _

An envoy had been sent to Dany's ship earlier that day bidding her to come to Jothiel's pit, where Kraznys mo Nakloz will be all day, to discuss more regarding the Unsullied.

At the end of the walkway, Dany was met with the sight of a large circular stadium she knew instantly was the place mentioned by the emissary sent to her.

Thousands of people were lined up, waiting to be seated in the stadium. However, Daenerys was told to just go up to the front of the line and tell the guard she has a meeting with Master Kraznys.

When she told the guard up front, he didn't do anything at first except glare at her. For a moment, she thought it was a mistake until the emissary from earlier came jogging down the hallway towards them. He told the guard to let them through and the man obliged by moving out of the way for the young Queen. Dany stepped past him and followed the emissary down the long hallway.

The Patrons were going crazy for the barbaric fight raging between a man and a large lion in the center of the arena. Dany glanced at the fight to see the man thrust his sword at the massive beast only to miss. The lion struck the man with his large paw and cut the man's face with its dagger-like claws. The man toppled to the ground as blood poured and spurted from his body until the lion pounced on him, mauling the slave to death.

The crowd cheered and laughed as the slave was torn apart. While the citizens thought this source of entertainment was amusing, Dany thought it was horrible.  _ How can any of them enjoy watching people die for sport? _

The guards sent the lion into its cage and cleaned up the remnants of the slave from the arena. Soon after two more slaves were introduced onto the sand and began fighting each other, much to the crowd's enjoyment.

The emissary led Dany and her Knights to the private terrace, reserved only for the important patrons.

Kraznys was already seated in the front row with another man in the seat next to him, the two of them laughing at the two fighters in the arena. Standing quietly behind her master was Kraznys' slave and translator.

_ "Master Kraznys, the Mother of Dragons is here to see you." _

Kraznys turned from the spectacle below and stood up from his seat to greet her.

_ "Ah, the Mother of Dragons! Come and sit beside me and we can talk about the Unsullied." _

"The good Master bids you to sit with him so that you may discuss your decision about the Unsullied," Missandei translated for her.

"Thank you Master Kraznys," Dany politely said to the slaver and took the seat to his left. Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah remained close behind her.

"I have come to a decision—"

_ "Come on, hit him back!" _ Kraznys interrupted, yelling at his fighter in the arena. Dany peered out to the fight between the two men. One of them was swinging a sword as fast as he could while the other fighter, equipped with a spear and shield, frantically held up his only protection while the sword kept swinging down at him, giving the spear handler no room to attack.

"I have come to a decision, to purchase the Unsullied."

_ "Fucking idiot!" _ Kraznys hollered. The Spearman thought he found he had found an opening to attack, but the swordsman feinted and broke the spear in half when the slave thrust the spear outward. The stunned slave was left with no weapon. He tried to block the next swing but the other slave hit the shield too hard, sending the metal barrier flying from its owners grasp and landing some feet away.

The swordsman didn't waste any time. With a swift swing of his sword, he sliced through the man's torso, cutting him in half.

The crowd screamed and cheered for the slave as he raised his hands and bloodied sword in victory.

It was a horrible sight for Dany. She watched the guards drag the dead slave's body halves across the sand while the spectators threw their food and spat on the corpse.

_ "Haha, you owe me thirty gold pieces my friend," _ Kraznys' companion snickered.

Kraznys rolled his eyes and nodded while he reached for his belt and pulled out a coin purse and tossed it to his friend before turning his attention back to Daenerys.

_ "So you want to purchase my Unsullied then?" _

Daenerys nodded.

_ "Good! How many?" _

"All of them," Dany answered him after Missandei translated for her.

"All of them? Did this one's ears mishear, your Grace?" Missandei asked her, uncertain if she heard her correctly.

"They did not. I want to buy them all."

Missandei nodded before turning to her master and inform him.

_ "She wants to buy them all," _ the young slave told Kraznys, who only scoffed in response.

_ "She can't afford them all." _ Looking to his friend beside him, Kraznys nudged him in the arm with a smirk on his ugly face.  _ "The slut thinks she can flash her tits and make us give her whatever she wants." _

Dany had a difficult time trying not to roll her eyes as she listened to the two talking about her.

"There are eight thousand Unsullied in Astapor," Missandei informed Dany. "Is this what you mean by all?"

"Yes, eight thousand," Dany responded as a matter-of-factly. "And the ones still in training as well."

_ "If they fall on the battlefield, they will bring shame to Astapor," _ Kraznys' friend chimed in after listening to Missandei's translation.

Kraznys nodded his shiny bald head in agreement.

"Master Greizhan says they cannot sell half-trained boys. If they fall on the battlefield, they will bring shame upon Astapor."

"I will have them all or take none," Dany stated. "Many will fall on the battlefield. I'll need the boys to pick up the swords they drop."

Kraznys sighed in annoyance.  _ "The slut cannot pay for all of this. Tell her I have other important things to do." _ Missandei nodded to her master.

"The good master says you cannot afford all eight thousand Unsullied. He hopes you will forgive him for having you come all this way but he is very busy today."

Before Dany could protest, Kraznys got up from his cushioned seat and walked to the edge of the terrace and addressed the crowd.

_ "Men and Women of Astapor! It has been my pleasure to entertain you with my slaves; the best fighters in all of Astapor!" _

Dany listened to the entire arena erupting into applause and she couldn't help but feel angry that these people supported such a savage sport.

_ "Now I introduce for our next match, a slave from the noble house of Zhardon mo Gaznok. I give you, Lyseo!" _

Dany looked to the western wall where the heavy metal gate began rising. Out of the shadows of the tunnel came a tall bulky man marching onto the sand of the arena. He bellowed a loud animalistic roar and raised his Warhammer in the air, getting the crowd even more worked up in the stands.

Shortly after the slave fighter Lyseo entered the arena, he was followed by five other fighters greeted by the large crowd.

_ "Everyone, please put your hands together for his opponent!" _ Master Kraznys shouted out loud.

It was automatic. The entire stadium all clapped in sync as the Eastern gate opened as if it beckoned the fighter to come out from the tunnel below.

_ "I have the pleasure to tribute another of my fighters. He has shown us time and time again how brutal and ferocious he can be when angered! And now, he will show us what he truly is capable of when he faces these six men! I give you Death's Bastard!" _

Dany quickly turned her attention to the arena as the young man in question walked out onto the arena floor.

Silas bore a steel helmet with small spikes sticking out from all sides, making him look menacing to intimidate his opponents. His face was covered by the helmet as well, with the exception of his eyes and mouth. Though Dany could barely see his face, she could tell he wore a serious concentrated look. He spun his two swords in his hands as he met with his rivals.

He wore a single steel pauldron placed on his right arm, the leather straps tied across his bare sweat slicked chest, and wore a pair of black leather trousers and worn black leather boots as his source of protection.

When the gate closed behind Silas, Dany looked over to Kraznys when she realized something.

"Where are the other fighters?" Dany asked.

"There are no other fighters," Missandei translated for the young Queen. "This is the match Master Kraznys agreed upon, six against one."

Dany couldn't believe it as she stared over at the arena, wide-eyed in shock.  _ This fight wasn't a fight at all but an execution and Silas was forced to do this, alone. Silas is going to die and these people won't even care one bit that it was an unfair match. _

 

**In the arena.**

Silas met the other six fighters in the center of the oval-shaped sand pit.

_ "If it isn't Death's Bastard himself," _ Smirked Lyseo as he looked down on the smaller man _. "Well Bastard, enjoy this fight. I plan on making it your last." _

_ "Like you did to my friend Tizam?" _ Silas responded coolly.  _ "You've never had the honor to fight me yet, and now you do, with the aid of five others. You must feel really tough to take me on now." _

_ "You little shit!" _ Lyseo growled, any hint of amusement now gone from his ugly and scarred face.  _ "I'm going to enjoy killing you." _

Silas only gave him a curt nod before stepping back a few paces to put more space between him and the others. He was going to need all the advantage he could get.

The former Prince stood still, watching his opponents closely, waiting for them to make a move.

There was a moment, a quick one where Silas shifted his gaze up to the terrace. Besides his poor excuse of a Master that condemned him to this match, sat the Mother of Dragons herself, staring back at him. If he didn't know any better, she looked to be a little worried. Behind her, he could see Ser Barristan watching him as well.

For that split second, Silas had hoped that his time of enslavement was at an end. However, by the look on the old Knight's face told him otherwise. As if Ser Barristan was reading his mind, he shook his head, pulling away any hope that he would be freed from this life.

With a deep resounding sigh, he turned back to the six fighters before him. If he was to survive this, he needed to concentrate.

Kraznys looked out to the crowd.  _ "Now, let blood be shed!" _

He swung his raised hand down in a swift and quick motion, signaling for the fight to begin.

Silas watched as the six men prepared themselves for the fight. He didn't defend himself with his swords, he didn't crouch his body in anticipation for any attacks from his opponents. What he did though, was take off his helmet and tossed it onto the sand. He closed his eyes and extended his arms out as far as he could on either side with a sword in both hands.

_ I've never believed in the Gods. Probably why I am here now, but I place my life in their hands now. If I still have more to do in this life, then I will survive this. _

 

 

 

**In the terrace.**

Dany watched in stunned belief at what she was seeing.  _ He's not defending himself! He even took off his helmet! What is he trying to do? _

Dany turned around to see Ser Barristan looking as equally stunned as she was. Beside her, she could hear Kraznys cursing at Silas.

_ "What is that dumb fuck doing? Shield yourself!" _

Silas' master's commands had fallen on deaf ears as the crowd drowned out his voice by the chant of the young slave's name echoing through the arena.

To Silas, all he heard was silence as he patiently waited for the sign of the Gods to come to him.

_ If I die today, I will make it a death to be remembered for lifetimes to come. _

The crowd continued to chant his name out loud as they waited for someone to shed blood.

One of the six fighters from the back walked up ahead of the small group, a long sharp spear in hand and waited for Death's Bastard to attack. Everyone waited for Silas to make a move.

Tired of waiting, the fighter threw his spear with all his strength at the young man.

-

-

Dany and Ser Barristan watched the spear sail through the air. It looks like a perfect throw, Dany thought to herself. Silas still didn't shield himself or move out of the way. By the Gods, he going to get hit!

The spear curved downward and began descending back to Earth. It was coming down fast, growing closer and closer to Silas who remained calm and unflinching when the spear flew down on him.

The crowd gasped in unison when the spear sailed past Silas. The sharp tip grazed his left cheek before stabbing the ground behind him.

Dany stared wide-eyed with shock at Silas' unflinching brush with death. How he remained so calm when the weapon came at him. She and the crowd weren't the only ones stunned at that bit of miracle.

-

-

Silas' emerald eyes opened wide. He couldn't believe that it had worked. 

_ I guess the Gods have a bigger purpose for me after all. _

The six men, though surprised at what they witnessed, didn't let that stop them and ran at the young man with their weapons brandished and ready to strike.

Silas saw them coming and ran to greet them.

Faster and faster, Silas' feet took him to the oncoming group.

One slave with an axe in each hand ran the fastest and was the first to greet Death's Bastard. The slave swung one axe but Silas parried the sharp weapon with one of his swords and shoved the man out of the way.

The next slave carried a sword that Silas smacked down and pushed to the floor just in time to block the third attack.

Silas swung the third slave around and sliced him in the back, letting him fall to the floor.

-

-

 

In the terrace, Ser Barristan watched in amazement as his former pupil took on the six men alone. He was glad to see his teachings had not been for nothing. The old Knight, however, was surprised to see Silas fighting in the style of two-handed sword fighting.  _ I never taught him how to fight with two swords. _

Beside Ser Barristan, Daenerys watched the fight as well. Though she hated the sport entirely, she couldn't stop watching the fight before her. More specifically, she couldn't stop watching Silas.

The way he fought, it wasn't savage or brutal. He didn't try to hack off limbs or cut someone in half. She could see he tried to injure his opponents rather than kill them.

All her life, she was told by her brother how Robert Baratheon was a violent and brutal man who only loved to kill people. She assumed that was the same for the offspring of the Usurper. That is until now, as she watched him fight.  _ Could Ser Barristan be right about Silas? _

"This match seems grossly unfair," Daenerys said after a while of silence. "If he is victorious, what will Silas win in return?"

Missandei translated the young Queens words to Kraznys who gave an annoyed response.

"The good master says if he should win, which he doubts." The words stung Daenerys as she heard them.  _ Which he doubts?! The man doesn't even believe that Silas will win at all! _

"If he should win, then he gets to live another day."

"That's all? His life?" Daenerys asked, trying to sound calm. "He won't get any gold at least?"

Missandei shook her head solemnly. "No, your Grace. Any money a fighter earns for winning is given to their master. Slaves have no use for money. The Masters provide anything their slaves need.”

The young Queen looked out to the fight, Silas was literally fighting for his life and he wouldn't get anything in return if he can survive the onslaught of attacks. She then turned her gaze to Ser Barristan watching intently as his protégé dodged attacks from each of the six men. She could tell he was worried for Silas that made her feel a pang of guilt for declining his request to free the former Prince. 

_ If I had said yes, Silas wouldn't be in the arena right now. _

As she watched the fight, Dany thought of an idea that could solve more than one of her problems all at once.

-

-

As Silas was dodging a slave's axe, another holding a spear came running behind him, hoping to catch the young man off guard.

Just as he had swung at him, Silas quickly arched his body backward, narrowly missing both spear and axe that crossed just inches above his face.

Silas got back up just as the slave with the spear swung at him again, this time, Silas swung his sword down onto the wooden shaft. Feeling the anticipation of another attack coming his way, the young man turned around and blocked the attack.

The slave with the spear got back up and while Silas was distracted with another fighter, struck him in the back. The quick bout of pain that Silas felt was enough to distract him and get hit again, this time in the stomach.

The slave with the axes came back and with all the strength he could muster, kicked Silas hard in the chest and knocked him onto the floor.

Silas fell onto his side but quickly recovered and rolled himself out of the way.

Just as the young man had gotten to his knees, he was met with Lyseo and his Warhammer. Lyseo swung the heavy weapon. Fortunately, Silas jumped back before the Warhammer could meet his skull.

Silas got back up and blocked a sword thrust at him. He grappled with one of the opponents that had charged at him and flipped him onto the sand.

Once he was rid of one man, Lyseo came back and this time he hit Silas with the full force of his Warhammer right in the chest.

The impact was so strong that Silas flew back a few feet into the air before sliding back onto the hard sandy ground.

 

-

-

Ser Barristan watched helplessly from the terrace as Silas struggled to get back up. Every time the young man would barely lift himself up from the floor, one or two other slaves would come over and kicked him back down to the ground.

Finally, Ser Barristan couldn't take to looking at the fight anymore and turned away from the sight when one of the slaves kneed Silas in the temple and another kicked him in the mouth, making him spit blood onto the sand as he fell back onto the ground.

Daenerys turned to see Ser Barristan looking distraught at the fight before them. She could tell he was trying his best to keep calm and not do anything stupid. It pained her to see her Knight upset. Looking out at the arena floor, she knew she had to make her decision, now.

"I have a way to make the payment," Dany said to Kraznys. Missandei translated for her master who only scoffed before responding back.

"Master Kraznys says you do not have enough to pay for all eight thousand Unsullied. Your ship will buy you one hundred Unsullied—"

_ "And this is because I like the curve of her ass,"  _ Kraznys chuckled to his friend.

"—because Master Kraznys is generous."

"The gold you have left is worth ten," Missandei continued on.

_ "I will give her twenty if it stops her ignorant whimpering." _

"But good Master Kraznys will give you twenty."

_ "Her Dothraki smell of shit—" _

"The Dothraki you have with you…"

_ "—but may be useful as pig feed,"  _ Kraznys snickered with each word.

"The Dothraki you have with you are not worth what they cost to feed…"

_ "I will give her three for those." _

"Master Kraznys will give you three Unsullied for all of them."

_ "Now ask the beggar Queen how she proposes to pay for the rest?" _

Dany did her best to contain herself from rolling her eyes when Kraznys called her a 'beggar Queen'. The name reminded her too much of her brother.

"The good Master Kraznys asks how you propose to pay for the remaining seven thousand eight hundred and seventy-seven Unsullied."

Dany gazed back out to the arena. Silas managed to get up and block a few more strikes before one of the other slaves pushed him back onto the sand. The crowd was already cheering for blood and death.  _ It's now or never. _

"I have dragons. I'll give you one."

Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah both look at her in shock and disbelief at what they heard. Missandei quickly turned to her master and told him what Dany proposed, making his crude ugly face light up in stunned shock as well.

"You will win the Iron throne with dragons, not slaves your Grace," Ser Barristan said to her.

"Khaleesi, please." Ser Jorah cautioned her.

Dany didn't say anything to her two Knights but glared at them before returning her attention back to the slaver.

Daenerys turned back to Kraznys, who now seemed more interested in dealing with her now.

"Three dragons," he told her in the common tongue. The Ghiscari accent is strong as he spoke.

"One." Dany responded firmly. He was lucky she was giving him one at all.

"Two."

"One!"

Kraznys stopped bargaining with her and instead consulted with his friend Master Greizhen. The two talked with each other in hushed whispers for a minute or two before turning back to the young Queen again. Master Kraznys spoke to Missandei and told her what to say.

"They want the biggest one."

"Done," Dany agreed.

"Done." Kraznys agreed as well.

She had done it. She has her Unsullied, and it only required her a dragon. For now.

Dany didn't have to look back to her Knights to know they were disappointed with the deal she agreed upon.  _ It's not their decision what I do with my dragons. _

"I'll take her," Dany pointed to Missandei who looked at her surprised. Dany turned to the arena where Silas was still fighting off his opponents. "And him as well. They will be your gift to me. A token of a bargain well struck.

Ser Barristan stood there, flabbergasted at what he heard his Queen's attempt to take Silas. He felt like a great weight was lifting from his chest.

Missandei turned to her master and translated Dany's words for him.

_ “The nerve of this bitch!”  _ Kraznys laughed in response.  _ “She’s trying to steal my livelihood too! Tell the whore she can have you but the boy stays. He has actual worth to me.” _

"The good master says you can take this one, but you cannot take his fighter."

Ser Barristan sighed in annoyance.

"Why not?" Dany asked the master sternly.

"Most of Master Kraznys' income comes from his fighters. Losing one means losing money, your Grace."

Daenerys turned to the master to talk to him directly. "You said it yourself yesterday, he isn't even one of your best fighters and yet you have him fighting alone against six other men. It seems to me that you don't care about him, whether he lives or dies. I could use another bodyguard and you can surely train another fighter to take his place. If you are as good as you claim to be then training another fighter to take his place shouldn’t be a problem."

Missandei spoke to her now former master and relayed to him what the young Queen had said. Once she was done, Kraznys looked at her, contemplating what she said.

_ "If he survives this, you can have him." _ Kraznys turned to his friend.  _ "Dead or alive, I'll get a lot of money, and a dragon, from him." _

"The good master has agreed to let you take his fighter if he survives the duel," Missandei told her. Dany nodded, it was all she could do and hope Silas will come out of this victorious.

 

-

-

 

Silas had been tripped and fell on his back. Looking up, he saw Lyseo swinging his large Warhammer of his and brought it down on him. Silas grabbed his sword just in time to quickly block the heavy weapon from crushing his face.

However, Lyseo was pushing the Warhammer further down and Silas was having difficulty keeping his arms from collapsing under the heavy weight pushing down on him. He was eye to eye with the sharp pointed end of the Warhammer slowly descending closer to his face.

With every ounce of strength he had, Silas pushed the weapon back up and smacked Lyseo hard in the side of his head with the hilt of his sword. Lyseo staggered back a few steps holding where he had been hit.

The crowd cheered at the sudden change of events.

Lyseo came trudging back but Silas kicked him away. Unfortunately, that kick didn't stop Lyseo from advancing. The bigger man raised his Warhammer above his head, when he was close enough, he swung the weapon down.

Silas saw the attack coming and rolled out of the way, finally managing to get up on his feet.

Lyseo tried to swing his weapon again, but Silas charged at him, tackling the man into another slave.

The rush of adrenaline was flowing through Silas, pumping through every vein in his body. He stood poised to attack the man before him. Silas was done trying to be merciful to these men. It was time he released that Baratheon fury his father used to boast about.

He glared at the six men, his sore chest heaved up and down with every deep inhale and exhale of breath he took. His emerald eyes stung with the mixture of sweat and dirt that covered his slick wet skin but he paid no mind. He just wanted to end this match, here and now.

Finally, with a deep inhale of breath, Silas bellowed a loud roar and charged at the slaves. The first slave he met swung their broken spear and Silas blocked each blow. After the third swing, Silas took hold of the spear and slashed the man with his sword, killing him instantly before the slave could hit the ground.

Another quickly charged at Silas again, but Silas was quicker and parried the weapon away from him. He spun around in one fluid motion and stabbed his sword through the slave's neck and out the other side.

A third slave came up behind Silas, hoping to catch him off guard but Silas reacted quickly and stabbed the oncoming slave in the gut with the broken spear in his other hand.

Forcefully, Silas ripped both sword and spear from both of his victims with such force and ferocity that the two men flipped in the air and their lifeless bodies slammed onto the sand.

Silas turned just in time to catch the fourth slave coming at him. Without thinking, he lifted the broken spear and stabbed it through the slave's mouth and out the back of his head.

Still preoccupied with his fourth victim, the fifth slave threw one of his axes at Silas, a desperate and futile attempt to kill him.

The former prince easily dodged the flying axe by simply bobbing his head to the side, letting the weapon sail past by him and slide onto the sand. Silas took the sword from the dead slave's mouth, letting the body crumple into a lifeless heap on the sand as he marched away.

The slave with the axe ran to meet Silas. He swung his axe that Silas easily blocked with his sword and swung down, slashing the slave's chest. Then he stabbed the slave once, twice, three times before pushing him onto the arena floor.

-

-

 

The crowd erupted into cheers all around the stadium, waving their hands and screaming at the top of their lungs. A few of the women pulled out their breasts from their dresses in excitement.

Ser Barristan couldn't be more amazed at what he was seeing the young man do. Taking on six men alone was no easy task and he managed to take on five of them one by one until he was left with one opponent that stood between Silas and his victory, his freedom.

Dany couldn't believe what she was seeing in the arena. How quickly Silas had turned the tables and managed to kill five of his opponents by himself. It was a miracle in its own. As much as she hated this, slaves fighting each other to the death, she couldn't help but hope that Silas would win. 

"He fights like a man possessed," Dany told Ser Barristan, who smiled back at her.

"By the Warrior himself."

-

-

 

Lyseo was the only fighter left for Silas to finish off. The two circled each other, keeping themselves a good distance apart.

Lyseo spat on the floor.

_ "Are you ready to die, puny man?" _ the tall bulky man smirked at Silas.

_ "I'm not dying today," _ Silas responded calmly.

Suddenly, the two charged at each other. Lyseo swung his Warhammer hard and fast over his head and aimed it at Silas.

Everyone gasped when the Warhammer came down so quickly, even Dany gripped the armrest tightly in her grasp.

Silas ducked in time, barely missing the heavy block of metal. Lyseo swung it up again, reeling it in for another attempt but Silas caught his arm and snapped the bone in a swift motion and took the Warhammer for himself. He hit Lyseo hard in the chest, knocking the big guy onto the floor gasping for the air that was knocked out of him.

Silas limped over to Lyseo, the Warhammer still in his hands. He had hurt Lyseo harder than he thought. The man's broken arm was bent in a weird angle and a bone was sticking out of his skin. His torso was bruised a deep purple and a few broken ribs protruded through his chest where blood began to trickle from the torn skin. Blood dribbled from the man's mouth and Silas knew he punctured something on the inside.

Lyseo would never fight again, his injuries were too great. Even if he somehow survived, these would never fully heal and he wouldn't be able to properly fight. Silas wanted to spare his life, he didn't want to harm an unarmed and injured person, and there was no honor in fighting like that. However, the crowd cheered and chanted for him to kill as they all held their thumbs down, taking away any chance of him being merciful. He had to do what the crowd wanted.

_ "That…that was…a good fight," _ Lyseo sputtered. He coughed up blood that trailed down the corner of his mouth.  _ "I don't want to die, but I'm…honored…to die…by your hands." _

Silas never thought he would feel bad for Lyseo dying. The man is a brutal savage who killed hundreds of men, including his friend Tizam, and enjoyed it. He deserved to die, but somehow, Silas couldn't do it.

_ "Go on, get on with it already and kill me," _ Lyseo told him, a small hint of a smile spread across his blood speckled face.  _ "Valar Morghulis." _

Silas nodded his head. Left with no other option, he raised the Warhammer above his head.

_ “Valar Dohaeris, ” _ He took a deep as he dropped the bone-crushing weapon on the chest of its previous owner. The sharp end stabbed through Lyseo's body.

Lyseo let out a single sharp grunt just when the Warhammer impacted his chest as the life was crushed out of him. That was all Silas heard before the stadium erupted into a deafening roar of applause.

 

-

-

 

"YES!" Ser Barristan yelled at his former pupil's triumph in the arena.

Dany was surprised by the sudden and foreign outburst from her old Knight. He was usually so calm and composed, nonetheless, the sudden change in attitude made her smile.

"It looks like I get a fighter as well," Dany told a rather annoyed Kraznys. “Thank you for your time Master Kraznys, I did rather enjoy it.”

Kraznys nodded and waved her off.

Dany got up from her seat, standing at the edge of the terrace, waiting for the slaver to address the crowd and free Silas. Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah followed her out along with her newest member of the group, Missandei, stayed close behind.

 

-

-

 

Kraznys mo Nakloz got up from his seat and looked out to the crazed cheering crowd. Putting a fake smile on his face, he addressed the people.

_ "Death's Bastard has given us a great show today and as such, deserve a reward fitting his endeavor." _

Silas turned around to face the terrace where his master stood out for all to see.

_ "What better reward to give him than his own life back!" _

The entire stadium cheered out loud. At first, it was incoherent to the young man but once every voice came together he was able to understand what they were all chanting. Every single person in the stadium chanted 'Free him! Free him! Free him!'

_ "I Kraznys mo Nakloz, grant Silas, Death's Bastard, his freedom!" _

Silas looked around at the entire stadium cheering deafeningly all around, screaming his name aloud. However, that wasn't what he was hearing. All he heard was the word freedom ringing in his ears over and over again.

After two long grueling years of fighting to survive, he was finally free. For the first time in a long time, he felt the weight of dread and impending death lift from him. His life was finally his again.

 

-

-

 

"My Queen," Ser Barristan called out to Dany when they exited the terrace. The young Queen turned around, giving the Knight her full attention.

"I…I…wanted to say thank you. Thank you so much for freeing Silas. This…this means more to me than you know."

"I am glad you are happy Ser Barristan," Dany smiled kindly to him. "But you should be thanking Ser Jorah."

Ser Barristan looked at her in confusion at what he had heard.

"Ser Jorah?"

"Yes. Ser Jorah came to me after we had spoken last night and asked to reconsider my decision about Silas. I am only sorry that I waited so long to make my decision."

Ser Barristan stood there, stunned at finding out Ser Jorah helped him out. The old Knight turned to the other Ser and gave him a quick nod.

"Thank you Ser Jorah."

"Don’t thank me just yet," the bear Knight responded sternly. His eyes glaring like daggers at the other man.  "I still consider this boy to be an enemy to our Queen and I won’t cease to believe otherwise until he can prove himself."

Ser Jorah stepped closer to Ser Barristan, glaring at the man.

“If that boy so much as makes me think he’s betraying us, I will kill him. That’s a promise.”

All the older Knight could do was give a nod back in response. If this was the best he could work with to free Silas then so be it. Silas will surely change their minds about him eventually.

“Go Ser Barristan,” The young Queen commanded her Knight. “Retrieve Silas from his holding cell and bring him to the ship.”

The old Knight nodded and turned the opposite direction and walked down the long hallway leading him to the cells below.

 

-

-

 

Silas had wiped away the remaining dirt sweat and blood from his face and hands with a rag and warm water in a tin basin left out for him. His body felt sore and some places throbbed with each movement he made.

He had taken off the pauldron and in its place, he slipped into an oversized grey cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled just under his elbows.

Though he was sore everywhere on his bruised and battered body, a smile was still plastered on his face. Something he hasn't done in a long time. I'm finally free. After all this time, my life is my own once again.

"Haven't I taught you to never drop your guard?" Silas heard a familiar voice ask him. The smile on his face widened even more. He turned around to find the familiar face of Ser Barristan Selmy smiling back at him.

The old Knight told the guards to open the cell door, to which they obeyed. Silas walked over to meet the famous Knight and embraced him in a strong hug that the Knight gladly reciprocated.

"Other than that, how'd I do?" Silas asked his former mentor when they released each other from their embrace. Silas never cared what other people thought of his fighting skills. Not his father's, not his uncle Jaime and certainly not his grandfather Tywin. He did, however, care about Ser Barristan's opinion and held it in high regard. If he was ever uncertain about how he was executing a fighting move, he would always go to the famed Knight and ask if he was doing it correctly. Ser Barristan was always patient with him whenever he couldn't get a stance right or miss-stepped during practice.

The old Knight smiled kindly at the young man who now stood taller than him.

"You were…Gods, you were amazing out there Silas," Ser Barristan proudly praised the former Prince and patted him heartily on the back. "I am so proud of you."

“I have you to thank for that,” Silas responded back to his former mentor. “Without your training, I would have surely died a long time ago and my body fed to the lions.”

The old Knight gave Silas a pat on the shoulder. Ser Barristan was touched by the praise he was given, even when he felt it was unnecessary. He might have taught the boy to fight, but it was Silas’ own skill that kept him alive in this hell. He couldn’t be more proud of Silas.

"Now," Ser Barristan moved out of the way to the exit. "Are you ready to be freed of this place?"

"Oh yes I am," Silas nodded with a grin.

"Well then, let's leave this dreadful place." Ser Barristan walked out of the cell and waited for Silas just outside for him to walk out as well.

To most, it didn't seem like a big deal but to Silas, it meant a lot to him to walk out of this cell because as soon as he steps through, he would as a free man. When he walks out of the cell, he will no longer have to wear a collar like a dog. Speaking of collar…

Silas reached up to his neck where the black leather collar he's worn for two years rested. With one simple jerk, he snapped the collar off of his neck and tossed it onto the stone floor and stepped over it as he made his way to the doorway of the cell.

No guards came at him, calling him scum. He didn't hear the loud metallic jingle of the heavy manacles dancing in the guards grasp like always when he walked out the cell door. Silas Baratheon was truly free once more.

"Was there anything you wanted to get, lad?" Ser Barristan asked the young man.

"No, this is all I have," Silas responded as he put the pouch around his neck and pointed to the old worn leather armor and the steel helmet in his other hand.

"Well, we'll just have to get you some new things before we leave," Ser Barristan chuckled. "You'll certainly need a new set of armor and swords to keep on you."

"Thank you Ser Barristan," Silas kindly told the old Knight. "But I'm keeping the helmet. I rather like it."

“Don’t thank me, Lad, thank the Queen.” Ser Barristan chuckled lightly at his former Prince and patted him on the back as the two walked down the long dimly lit hallway to exit the stadium one last time.

 

-

-

 

"So, what's she like?" Silas asked as he and Ser Barristan walked through the busy plaza to the docks on the other side. "Daenerys Targaryen."

Silas had always been interested in the Targaryen family, mostly because mentioning them in the Red Keep seemed taboo, especially when his father was around. However, Silas didn’t share the same views as his father in the matter of the Targaryens and continued to read about the family. After all, his Baratheon side had a bit of Targaryen blood in it as well and wanted to know more about this part of his family. He wanted to know all he can about the last Targaryen, this Mother of Dragons.

Ser Barristan didn't answer him right away. Silas however, knew the Knight was thinking of what to say.

"Daenerys Targaryen," Ser Barristan began. "She is…like most of her Targaryen ancestors."

"Gods, I hope that doesn't mean she's stricken with madness." Silas joked with his former mentor who chuckled in return.

"No, I've seen Targaryens stricken with madness firsthand. Believe me, when I say this, she isn't one of them. Her Grace is more like the ones that changed the face of Westeros, for the better. She's intelligent, cunning, and fierce, sometimes she can have a bit of a temper here and there. And yet, she is also kind and gentle and very caring. Something you don't see in many rulers."

"She sounds like the perfect ruler." Silas retorted. He has heard many things about Daenerys Targaryen and it was always different. Some said she was ruthless, that she allowed her dragons to burn and eat the people when she was in a mood. Others have said she is a kind and has a gentle heart, helping those in need wherever she goes.  _ Ser Barristan has always been a good judge of character. If he says she is a good Queen, I will trust his judgment. _

“What about you Ser Barristan? What have you been doing these past two years?” Silas asked, changing the subject to the famed Knight. After he found out the commander of the Kingsguard had been relinquished of his duty, Silas now wondered what the older man has been doing since. By his presence here in Essos, Silas was pretty certain the Knight was living a mundane life.

“Traveled mostly,” Ser Barristan told him as they walked through the crowds of people browsing through the market stalls. “After I was removed from my position in the Kingsguard, I…I was at the very least to say…angered by the sudden dismissal and threw my sword toward your brother and might have made some accusations at your mother and her family.”

“Ser Barristan!” Silas exclaimed in surprise. The famed Knight was usually a calm and kind man to those that respected him, however, to act like this Silas knew his family had gone too far. The man lived and breathed and bled for the Kingsguard and they took it away from him in an instant. It is something he is sure they will regret.

“I know it wasn’t right to act the way I did,” the Knight admitted to Silas. “I have spent my time as a member of the Kingsguard holding my tongue when I shouldn’t have, but when your mother and brother dismissed me and blamed me for the death of your father, I couldn’t help myself.”

There was no doubt in his mind that Silas knew Ser Barristan was still upset about the ‘accidental death’ of his father. He was the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and he failed to do what the Kingsguard is sworn to do.

Silas however, knew that Ser Barristan was not to blame for his father’s death. Robert Baratheon drank too much wine while hunting and ended up getting gored by a wild boar. The whole truth though, was that his father’s death was orchestrated by his own mother. Silas had his suspicions but it was only confirmed when he and Ned Stark were visited by Varys while they were imprisoned in the Black Cells.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Silas assured him. “My father shouldn’t have been drinking and hunting in the first place. I haven’t and never will blame you for his death.”

Ser Barristan seemed to appreciate the assurance. The knight must have carried this burden for so long, it must have been a relief for him to hear that he isn’t to blame for the late King’s death.

“After the show in the Throne Room, I left the city with the few belongings I had. Before leaving the Keep, the Gold Cloaks ambushed me, at least tried to ambush me. No doubt on the orders of your mother.” a smirk had spread on the Knight’s lips. “Though because of that attack, I knew I couldn’t go back to my family at Harvest Hall but I knew I couldn’t hide while your family led the Seven Kingdoms into Civil War.”

“So you go and give your support to a woman whose ancestors brought the Seven Kingdoms to heel with their dragons.” Silas was surprised that Ser Barristan would give his full support to someone he doesn’t know, to someone who has no experience ruling a kingdom, to someone whose father enjoyed burning people alive.

“The Targaryens brought Westeros together,” Ser Barristan said. Her father might have been stricken with madness but her brother Rhaegar…Rhaegar was one of the finest men I ever met. If he was still alive, the Seven Kingdoms would have been at peace. He would have been a fine King and I believe Daenerys will be the same.”

Silas admired the Knight’s confidence in this young woman that has never ruled a Kingdom before but Ser Barristan has always been a good judge of character and if he believed this Daenerys Targaryen is the one to unify the Seven Kingdoms again then who is Silas to judge?  

-

-

After a while longer of walking through the hot busy plaza, the two men made it to the docks of Slavers Bay and passed by the rows and rows of ships, big and small, docked along the shore.

Ser Barristan marched up the narrow walkway and walked onto the deck of one of the ships Silas assumed belongs to the Mother of Dragons herself and followed the old Knight onto the ship.

The deck was crowded with Dothraki men and women walking about. Some of them glared at him while others ignored him completely as he followed Ser Barristan to the other side of the ship.

Silas fought a few Dothraki in the past. Those warriors were well skilled and really tough to take down but he admired their fighting style and even taught himself a bit of the Dothraki style of fighting when he trained.

"In here," Silas heard Ser Barristan tell him. The old Knight held open a door and beckoned him to enter.

Silas walked through the doorway and the first thing he saw were three dragons, screeching loudly in their wooden kennels in the corner of the small cabin at his presence. His eyes widened in shock and awe at the sight of such beautiful and magnificent creatures that have been gone for over a century.

All three of them eyed Silas curiously as he stared back at them, the reptilian creatures moved as close to him as the kennels they were in would allow, their heads cocked from side to side and sniffed the air around Silas as if inspecting he was good or bad. 

Ahem.

Silas quickly turned away from the three gorgeous creatures to the table in another corner on the other side of the room where the young Queen herself sat in one of the chairs. Keeping guard beside her was the Knight Ser Jorah, standing tall and quiet as he kept a hand on the hilt of his sword.

On the other side of the Queen stood two of her handmaidens and Missandei. He was surprised to see her but glad nonetheless.

Silas stepped over to the center of the cabin and got on one knee, bowing to the Queen before him.

"Your Grace, I thank you for freeing me and releasing me from my enslavement to Master Kraznys. I owe you nothing short of my life."

"You are too kind…Silas Baratheon, eldest son to the Usurper Robert Baratheon," the Queen said rather coolly to the bowing man. Silas lifted his gaze to the young Queen. "Don't think that I freed you from the goodness of my heart. Your family, both sides, in fact, killed my entire family and forced my brother and I to be exiled on the other side of the world."

"I know your Grace—"

"I should have you killed for what your family did to mine."

Silas didn't say anything. He just kept his gaze to the damp wooden floor of the cabin. He didn't want to look into her violet eyes that glared at him.

"However, I don't believe that the children should pay for the sins of their fathers. Something that seemed to escape yours when he constantly sent assassins upon me and my brother most of our lives."

Silas looked up at the Queen who motioned for him to stand and told him to sit down on the seat opposite from her. The young man walked over to the wooden chair and sat down.

"Since you didn't free me out of the goodness of your heart, as you said, and you are not going to kill me, what are you going to do with me, then?"

Daenerys didn't answer him right away. She picked up the silver pitcher placed on the center of the table and poured herself and Silas some wine into two goblets for them.

"Ser Barristan spoke very highly of you. He said that you are the complete opposite of your father. I've only known the Knight a short while but I know he is honorable enough to not lie and a good judge of character, so I am inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt and prove himself of what he says about you is in fact true."

_ Thank you, Ser Barristan,  _ Silas thought to himself.

"However, that doesn't mean I have to give you my complete trust. In hindsight, we are supposed to be enemies."

"In hindsight, your Grace," Silas spoke up. He picked up his goblet and took a sip of the delicious wine. "However, an enemy is only an enemy if they oppose you."

"And you don't oppose me?" Daenerys asked him. "I just purchased eight-thousand Unsullied for my army. Eventually, I am going to sail across the Narrow Sea and take back the Iron Throne and the entire Seven Kingdoms away from your family, possibly kill them as well."

Silas shook his head. "No, I don't oppose you. My mother…is a right royal bitch that sold me into slavery for finally standing up against her. As for my brother Joffrey, he is a sadistic little prick that would have loved to see me beheaded than live another day. Those two you can kill. They are the reason I was enslaved in the first place.  Believe me,when I say, I want them to be defeated. I want to be there when they are defeated.”

Dany could hear the anger and hatred in his voice as Silas spoke about his family. However, when she looked into his emerald gaze, she could see the hurt and pain he tried to hide from her.

"Why are you here? In this city?" She asked him suddenly when he finished. "What did you do to make your family sell you to a slaver half a world away?"

Silas took another sip of the delicious wine. He didn't like talking about that day. It was bad enough that he has to relive it in his head every day, but to have to repeat it to others was worse.  _ What will she think of me when I tell her I tried and failed to take the Iron Throne from my brother? _

With a long deep sigh, Silas began his explanation and hoped Daenerys wouldn't think of him any lower than she already did.

"I challenged my brother's claim to the Throne and tried to take it for myself."

The young Queen sat in her seat quietly, looking at him in a weird way, as if she didn't know what to think. Then she let out a small laugh as if he had told her a funny joke.

"I'm sorry, I thought you just said you tried to overthrow your brother. Is that right?"

"It is," Silas simply responded back.

Dany laughed a bit more, still thinking it was a joke too until she looked at the unamused face of Silas Baratheon staring back at her.

"You have got to be joking."

"I take it Ser Barristan didn't mention that part to you, did he?" Silas chuckled.

"No, he did not." Dany turned her stern gaze to the old Knight who lowered his gaze to the floor, slightly ashamed of himself.

"Well, I wouldn't have brought it up either. It wasn't exactly my proudest moment."

Dany let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed her index finger and thumb on the bridge of her small nose.

"I can't believe it. I just released a man who tried to rebel against his King and tried to steal the crown for himself. I should have known."

"You should have known?" Silas repeated, his voice now clearly filled with irritated anger. His emerald eyes glared at the young Queen who stared back at him, stunned at his sudden turn of emotion. "What? Do you think I am just like my father? Some brute that likes to fight and kill and fuck women within eyesight and drink wine until I’m blind?"

Dany didn't say anything. She didn't order him to stop. All she did was sit back, with a stunned look as she listened to him.

"I might look like him, and I might carry his family name but I am not Robert Baratheon and I wish people would stop comparing me to him. I knew the kind of man he was and I spent my entire life trying to distance myself from ever being like him because I always thought she would love me more if I wasn't like him."

_ She?  _ Dany caught that part.

"Who is she?" Dany asked him.

Silas remained silent for a moment or two, slowly and steadily calming down again before he responded back.

"My mother," the former Prince calmly answered her question. "She hated my father, and hated me to spite him, but I can’t say I blame her for her hatred toward the man. He was a whore mongering drunk and I, unfortunately, was the spitting image of him during his…glory days as he liked to call them. I used to call it a curse because I was the only one of my siblings to look like our father. My three younger siblings all had the golden hair and features of my mother and she treated them much better than me, especially Joffrey."

Silas leaned forward in his seat and took the silver goblet to his pouty lips and sipped the wine once more.

"Forgive me, your Grace. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that," he apologized when he saw the look on her face. "I will understand if you want me to leave. You already have done more than enough by purchasing my freedom."

Dany picked up her goblet and took a sip of the dark red wine as well.

"I am sorry too. I should have known better than to assume that you are like your father. I am the last person who should do that when my own father was commonly known as the 'Mad King'. So please forgive me for my assumption."

Silas nodded to her and downed the remaining drops from the goblet and placed it down onto the table. Daenerys offered to refill his goblet, to which he kindly declined. As much as he enjoyed wine, he made sure to monitor his consumption of alcohol, a habit he formed as to not become a drunk as his father had become.

"So why did you try to take the Iron Throne in the first place?" Dany asked him curiously after a few minutes of silence between the two. "You are the eldest aren't you? Doesn't the eldest always have a claim?"

Silas nodded in response. "Yes, generally the eldest child always has a claim before their younger siblings but there were certain…circumstances in my case."

"Certain circumstances?" Dany asked. "Like what?"

"Well for me, it was because I nearly died."

"How?" Dany curiously asked her guest. "What happened?"

Silas took another sip of the wine before responding to her question. Something told him he was going to need more if he was going to remember that day. "Officially, I tripped on my own clumsy feet and took a tumble down a flight of stairs."

"You tripped?" Dany asked the former Prince. “Tripped down a flight of stairs, nearly killing yourself and that caused your loss of the crown?”

Something about this just didn’t sound right to her. An accident shouldn’t be a reason to take the crown away.

"Well, it’s a little more complicated," Silas explained to the young Queen. "Because the unofficial but true story is that...I was pushed down those flight of stairs."

“What!” Ser Barristan chimed in unexpectedly by the doorway where he stood. “Who did it?”

Dany turned her gaze back to Silas and waited for his response.

"I'm sure you remember that day, don't you Ser Barristan."

The old Knight nodded to the former Prince. He could still remember that day as if it just happened, as much as he wanted to forget that day.

Silas turned back to the young Queen before him and said "That man saved my life that day. If he hadn't been patrolling the halls, I would have surely died."

“My mother, I always knew she couldn’t…didn’t…love me as much as my siblings. But, I never thought she would have it in her to kill me. I guess my father did more damage to my mother than I thought, for her to attempt to kill his heir.”

“Your mother?” Dany repeated, surprised by the revelation. A mother trying to kill her own child because his father was ridiculous. 

“Yes, my mother and her brother. You might know him as Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.”

Silas could hear Ser Barristan pacing back forth, his heavy footsteps patted against the wooden floor.

“Why would your mother do such a thing?” the young Queen asked. 

Silas examined the young woman closely. She wasn’t interrogating him anymore. What he saw in her expression was of genuine curiosity at the situation and if he wasn’t much mistaken…remorse…for him possibly at what had happened to him those years ago. 

Ser Barristan gave Silas a kind smile at the praise his former Prince gave him before the younger man continued his explanation of that day.

“That day…I witnessed something I shouldn’t have seen. Something that changed the way I look at my mother and a few other people in my family.”

“What was it?” Dany asked him kindly. “What did you see?”

"I…," Silas began. He paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should say the words that were on the tip of his tongue.  _ Fuck it, _ Silas thought to himself.  _ I don't need to keep it a secret anymore. They don't deserve my silence, not after what they've done to me. _

“I saw…my mother and her brother Jaime in a…in a rather intimate situation.”

Dany didn’t seem prepared for that answer. Neither were the two other Knights who stared back at the younger man in shock at this sudden revelation. Silas couldn’t blame them since he didn’t take the news too well when he found out about his mother and uncle. It nearly killed him.

The young man sighed and relaxed back into his seat, his fingers lightly tapped the surface of the wooden table. Silas took another deep breath as he tried his best to remember the day he tried so hard to forget.

“I was walking down this abandoned corridor in the Keep. I liked to explore the castle, to get away from all the politics, from my family. I went down this corridor that nobody used and walked up these narrow steps up to the second floor when I heard some muttering. I recognized them as my mother and uncle’s voices and me being the curious twelve-year old that I was, snuck myself close enough to hear what they were talking about. I ended up not only hearing but seeing more than I could have bargained for.”

Silas paused a moment and took the goblet from the table to take a sip of the wine. This wasn’t something he wanted to remember but from the looks from the others in the room, from the two knights to the Handmaidens standing in the corner, especially the young Queen sitting across from him, he knew they wanted to hear more. So, he continued.

“My mother was standing close, too close to my uncle, smiling like I haven’t seen her smile before when she stared at Jaime, caressing his face, I thought it was strange that she would be doing that with someone other than my father, especially with her own brother. Then all of a sudden, my uncle pulled my mother into his body and the two kissed each other with such passion that it shocked me, enough to accidentally make a noise that startled them and scared me from my hiding spot when my uncle chased after me. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and nearly fell down the stairs until Jaime caught me in time.”

Silas’ expression turned to a grim frown as more memories came to mind. Gods, did he want to change the subject.

“My uncle tried to help me back up…but my mother…my mother told him to wait…she told him that I knew their secret. That I was going to tell my father about them and he would kill them for this. I promised I wasn’t going to, I was so afraid of them. Of what they were going to do. My mother looked at me, it was the first time I saw tears in her eyes, and I could see that she made her decision on what to do to me. She told Jaime to let me go…I can still see the look in his eyes when she told him that. He was certainly surprised, but not as much as I was when he pushed me from the top of those stairs. Leaving me to die, alone and in pain.”

Silas turned his gaze back to the Queen before him.

"When I survived the ordeal," he continued. "She went to my father and convinced him that I was too weak to be his heir. My mother knew how to manipulate my father well enough. He didn't like anything weak and when my mother told him that’s what I have become, he came to my chambers and told me I was no longer his heir to the Iron Throne and declared my brother Joffrey as his heir as if he was a better choice. But I was fine with it, to be truthful. I didn't want the responsibility of being King."

The young Queen’s violet eyes stared at the banished Prince, still trying to process what she has been told.  Then something about what he said brought up something he mentioned earlier.

“You mentioned before, about your siblings having blonde hair and looking more like your mother…while you look like your father….”

Silas knew what Daenerys was bringing up. He had to admit it, she was very smart to pick up on something that people have taken years to realize.

"…Is it possible…do you think that your siblings are—”

“Bastards born of incest?" Silas finished the sentence for her. A small hint of a smile graced his lips at the irony of the words. His siblings were true bastards yet his mother treated him like he was the product of infidelity.  _ In my mother’s eyes, I guess I truly would be the bastard. _

"It seems your family's traditions are still popular in Westeros," Silas jested to the Queen who surprisingly smiled in return for the briefest moment. “In more ways than one.”

"By the Gods!" Ser Barristan exclaimed, causing the room to look towards him. The way he looked, the Knight was having a hard time believing this sudden information. "I should have known. All those times I saw your mother and uncle spending so much time alone. And…and how you looked so different from your other siblings. I can’t believe I never put these pieces together."

“Don’t worry, you’re not the only one,” Silas assured him. “They were, after all, my family.”

“Then this would make you not only the eldest with the strongest claim, but the only one with a true claim to the Throne,” Dany carefully stated. She eyed him suspiciously, her gaze hardening to a glare as she watched him, waiting for a reaction to her response.

Silas knew what she was doing. She was trying to get him to agree, to give her a reason not to trust him. She thinks she knows him well. That he is just like all the rest that she has met on her travels, those that want power so much they will kill to get there. However, this woman doesn’t know the banished Prince as well as she thinks she does.

"I can assure you, Your Grace, I don’t want the throne,” he told her with an assured calmness in his tone.

“Says the banished that tried to take the Throne from his own brother,” Daenerys came back with a smirk on her full pink lips.

“I did not want to take the Iron Throne," Silas informed Dany. “I still don’t.”

Her skeptical violet gaze lingered on him, hoping to find a hint of him lying somewhere in his eyes, his expression or his movement. Yet, Silas gave her no hint of deceit, no distrust. This was something that she rarely saw in the people that she has met in her travels. 

"You didn't, Didn’t you?"

Silas shook his head. "No, it wasn't my idea but Lord Eddard Stark's to put me on the Iron Throne."

"Why did Lord Stark want to put you on the Iron Throne?" Dany asked, very interested in hearing more. 

“Ned stark found out about my mother’s relationship with Jaime and the truth about my siblings and threatened to expose my mother's secret to my father when he comes back from his hunting trip. He told my mother to leave the city with my younger siblings. Unfortunately, my father was gored by a boar. On his deathbed, he claimed me as his heir once again. Before my father died, Lord Eddard came to my chambers to tell me..."

 

-

-

 

**Flashback**

**Two years ago.**

 

Silas was walking back and forth between his bed and dresser, carrying clothes and other items in his hands and tossing them onto his bed where a couple of travel bags lay open for him to fill. He wasn't alone in his room though, the spider himself, Lord Varys, sat at the Prince's round table watching him pack two large purses of gold into a bag beside the young man's sword.

"My prince, is there any way I can persuade you to stay?" The Master of Whispers asked him. Silas only shook his head as his answer.

"There is nothing left for me here," Silas told Varys as he packed away a few of his favorite books. "My father will be gone from this world soon and my horrid brother will be King soon after where I will be at his mercy. I refuse to live in a country that will be ruled by Joffrey."

"You will not be at his mercy," Lord Varys stood up and walked over to the Prince. "Your Grandfather has named you his heir of Casterly Rock. Soon, you will be richer than your own King Brother and thus hold more power than him."

Silas scoffed in amusement at his friend's words. "Lord Tywin will outlive us all, Death is afraid to take him away. Besides, I don't want to be Lord of the Rock. I don't want to be Lord of anything here!"

"Then what is it that you want, my Prince?" Varys sighed, tiring of his attempts to convince Silas to stay in Kings Landing, to stay in Westeros.

Silas tied the bags tight and dropped them back onto the bed. "I want to get out of the country before it's too late."

"Too late for what, my Prince?"

Silas turned away from his luggage and towards his friend.

"For war."

Varys didn't try to act surprised or shocked. He knew it was coming as well, he just didn't think anyone did besides himself.

"And what makes you think that?"

"Ned Stark was attacked by Jaime in the streets, my father is lying on his deathbed and soon Joffrey will wear the crown and sit atop the Iron Throne. It won't be long before Joffrey decides to call for war. Lord Tywin has already assembled an army when my uncle Tyrion was captured by Catelyn Stark. It will only be a matter of time before a war is declared on the North."

"And you don't want to be a part of this impending war, I take it?"

"I have no reason to be in it yet I know I will be forced to fight in the name of my brother, to sacrifice hundreds, maybe thousands of lives while Joffrey sits comfortably far away from all the fighting. I won't do it. I am sick of serving this family."

Silas grabbed his black leather sword belt and began strapping it around his waist. Just as he finished buckling the belt around his waist, a deep knock rapped at his door. The two men looked at each other, confused at the fact they weren't expecting anyone.

"Who is it?" Silas asked the unexpected guest on the other side of the door. He placed a hand on his sword, just in case.

"It's Lord Stark, My Prince." The deep stern voice of the Lord of Winterfell answered back. "May I come in?"

Silas was hesitant at first. With his father dying, he couldn't be too careful with people trying to kill him or his family to take over the Seven Kingdoms. However, seeing as Lord Stark is an honorable man and the only true friend of his father's, Silas nodded and asked Lord Varys to open the door for the Hand of the King.

Once Lord Varys opened the door, the limping form of Eddard Stark came through the doorway and into the large bedroom chamber. The clicking of his wooden cane on the stone floor echoed all around the room.

"My Prince," Ned Stark formally greeted Silas with a short bow. The Lord of Winterfell noticed the packed bags and the mess of clothes on the large bed.

"Going somewhere, are we?" Lord asked him questioningly.

When the Prince didn't answer, Lord Varys did it for him.

"Apparently, our Prince here is running away."

Silas rolled his eyes in annoyance. I thought the Master of Whispers is supposed to keep secrets, not spill them to others.

"Running away?" Lord Stark sounded surprised by the sudden news.

"Yes Lord Stark I am running away."

"But why? Your father is dying. You should be here for him during his final moments. You need to stay in Kings Landing."

"Why?" Silas snapped at the Lord Hand. "Why do I need to stay in Kings Landing when there is nothing for me here?"

The Hand of the King took a seat at the round table.

"Where will you go?" Ned asked the young Prince.

"To Essos, to someplace where nobody knows my name. Maybe Braavos or Myr or Tyrosh. I'll make a new life for me there.”

Lord Stark nodded his head. "Sounds like you have it all planned out then. But again, I must insist that you stay in Kings Landing."

"Why!" Silas yelled this time. He was tired of people trying to force him to stay. "Why do I need to stay in a country that my foul little brother is going to ruin?"

"He won't," Lord Stark calmly stated.

Silas stood surprised at what he heard the Lord of Winterfell say.

"Oh, do you have faith that my brother will be a great King Lord Stark?"

Ned Stark shook his head.

"No, what I mean is that he won't be King."

Silas was quiet for a moment, then he let out a snort and laughed at what he heard.

"Sorry to inform you Lord Stark but yes, Joffrey will be King of the Seven Kingdoms and there is nothing we can do. May the Gods help us all."

"He won't because I know the truth about his birth."

Silas chuckled, amused by the Lord of Winterfell's plan. "Congratulations Lord Stark, you found out the big secret."

Ned Stark gave him and Lord Varys a confused look.

"You already know?"

"Of course I already know. Why do you think Joffrey is the heir and I was shoved to the back, my mother didn't want another Baratheon ruling the Seven Kingdoms. So now there's a mighty lion waiting to sit on the throne. Long may he reign, la dee da dee da."

"But he's not the true heir!" Lord Stark stated, clearly stunned by Silas' response. "Don't you care about that?"

"No Lord Stark, I don't."

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Because," Silas exhaled an annoyed sigh. "I don't want to be here when Joffrey ruins this country."

"But what if you can change that?" Lord Stark asked him.

"I can't change that. My brother is going to be King and there's nothing I can do about that."

"Yes, there is."

Silas stared back at the Lord of Winterfell suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

Ned Stark pulled out a rolled parchment from his belt.

"Your father had me write this letter on his deathbed, declaring you to be reinstated as his heir and assume the mantle as King of the Seven Kingdoms when he passes away."

Silas remained silent as he processed the words Ned Stark spoke to him. He took a seat at his table across from Lord Stark. He glanced back at the Lord Hand who patiently waited for a response.

"Lord Stark," Silas calmly began. "I said I don't want to be King, and even if I wanted to, I really don't think a piece of paper will do anything—"

"As long as you don't do anything yourself," Ned Stark interrupted him. "You are your father's only trueborn heir. You need to stake your claim. Now is the time to do so."

"Lord Stark," Silas sighed. "Even if I did stake my claim, my mother will fight to keep her beloved Joffrey on the throne. I don't have anyone to back me up. No Lords, no army, nothing."

"You have me." Ned Stark told him confidently. "I can have the whole North come to your side and aide you. Your uncles would back you as well, I'm sure of it."

"I appreciate your support, I really do but you only brought a host of fifty men along with you and the rest are thousands of miles away. My uncle Stannis is back on Dragonstone and Renly doesn't have enough retainers to take on all the Lannister soldiers patrolling the Red Keep."

Ned Stark remained silent. The look on the stoic Northerner's face made Silas assume he was contemplating something.

"What if I can get you the men to back you?"

Silas opened his mouth to object the idea. However, the Lord of Winterfell had cut him off.

"Petyr Baelish has offered to pay the Citywatch to join our cause. With them on our side, we could outnumber your mother's force."

"That's only if I want to claim the throne, which I don't."

"Silas, please," Lord Stark was now pleading with the Prince. "There will be war if Joffrey sits on the Iron Throne. You can stop it. I've seen the way you treat the commoners and Lords alike and they love you. The people will follow you and I believe you can truly keep the peace in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Silas leaned back into his chair. Lord Stark was right about this, much to Silas' displeasure. Joffrey has no love for others except himself. The people will riot and burn Westeros to the ground when Joffrey becomes King.

Returning his attention back to Lord Stark and with a reluctant nod, he agreed to do it. Silas Baratheon would fight for his claim of the Iron Throne.

A few days had passed by in a blur since the secret meeting with Varys and Ned Stark when Silas received the news; his father Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals and Protector of the realm had succumbed to his wounds.

As he stood out in his balcony, Silas could hear the bells ringing from up high in the tower atop the Red Keep, announcing to the city that the King has died. Today was the day. Today was the day he turned against his family.

It wasn't long after when Ned Stark came to his chambers accompanied with a small group of his Northern retainers to guard him. Who could blame him for having protection, even within the castle walls during these times. Silas himself has felt more on edge since the secret meeting with Ned Stark. Every time he walked down the halls, even being in his own room, he has felt as if he was being watched. Once or twice he has caught sight of a few of Varys' little birds hanging about where he just so happened to be passing by. The Master of Whispers was probably trying to make sure he didn't make attempt to leave the city. The thought did occur to him on more than one occasion to just walk out of the Keep and never look back. Though, he has caught glimpse of a few people that he's never seen before, glancing at him rather suspiciously and quickly looking away whenever he glanced in their direction. It was these people, or more like the people they report back to, that made him feel unsafe within the castle, enough so that he kept his sword close to his side.

"It is time my Prince, are you ready?" The Lord of Winterfell asked the younger man.

Silas gave the Hand of the King a curt nod and walked over to the door. He had been prepared for this day since he agreed to rebel against his family, that still didn’t make him any less nervous about doing what he was about to do. A lot was at stake and the repercussions would be great, even fatal if he and Lord Stark failed to take his brother off the throne.

He hadn't seen his mother and brother since they all gathered around his father when he was brought back from his ill-fated hunt. He didn't want them to suspect anything wrong. Luckily not seeing them very often was a common occurrence of his and wouldn't draw suspicion if he were to retreat to his room after training with the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Hopefully, they thought he was in mourning for his father, it wouldn’t be a complete lie. Despite Robert not being a great father to him or his siblings, he was still his father and there were good moments, good memories between them that Silas won’t forget.

"I'm sorry we have to do this so soon after your father's passing, my Prince." Lord Stark apologized, the sincerity was clear in his voice. "But this has to be done quickly. Joffrey has already declared himself King."

"Thank you, Lord Stark for your condolences," Silas responded back. "And it is your loss as much as it is mine. You are and have always been my father’s best friend. He often told me he considered you his brother in all but blood."

The Lord of Winterfell gave the Prince a rare smile. "Thank you. You are a good lad and I will be honored to serve under your reign."

Silas sighed as he responded back. "I just hope I will be as good of a King that this country deserves."

"You will be. I have faith in you."

The two men reached the entrance of the throne room. Lords Varys and Baelish were already waiting for them when they arrived, along with the City Watch surrounding them all.

"Is everyone here?" Lord Stark asked the two men. 

Silas glanced around the area and noticed that they were short a group of soldiers and a certain Lord important to this cause. 

“Wait, where’s my uncle Renly?” Silas asked Lord Varys. The absence of soldiers wearing the stag sigil of his paternal family left an unsettled feeling in his stomach. 

"I'm afraid Lord Renly has left Kings Landing," Varys informed the Hand of the King and the Prince, much to their displeasure at the news. "He was last seen riding out the Old Gate an hour before dawn, accompanied by Ser Loras Tyrell and some fifty retainers. When last seen, they were galloping south in some haste, no doubt bound for Storms End or High Garden."

"So much for my uncle and his support," Silas muttered under his breath.

"Have no fear my Prince," Lord Baelish chimed in, his lips curled into a smile that unnerved the young Prince more usual. It made him feel uncertain about the situation they were about to get into. "We still have the City Watch behind us, giving us a great advantage."

Silas and Lord Stark walked up the steps side by side where they were met with the Lord Commander of the City Watch himself, Janos Slynt.

"My Prince, My Lord Hand," Janos Slynt bowed to the two men. "The City Watch is behind you, waiting for your command."

Ned Stark turned to Silas.

"Are you ready?"

Silas gave him a quick nod. As ready as he was, he was still nervous. If this goes as planned, he would be King, but his family would be under arrest and if they were to resist in any way…

_ It's for the good of the realm _ , he told himself.

The large heavy double doors opened to the eerily quiet throne room. At the other end, Joffrey sat upon the Iron Throne, a smug look on his pompous face while the Knights of the Kingsguard stood dutifully and silent like statues in front of their new King. Sitting beside Joffrey was their mother, stern yet beautiful and regal as usual. Her emerald eyes watched her eldest son march closer to them with Lord Stark by his side. She didn't look it, but Silas could tell was surprised to see him with Lord Stark and his retainers.

"Come to swear fealty to me, brother?" Joffrey snidely asked Silas. "Come, get on your knees and claim me as your King."

Silas clenched his hands in a tight fist and he gritted his teeth as he glared at his spoiled rotten little brother. Oh, how he wanted to punch that smug face smirking back at him. However, Silas remained calm and composed.

"No brother," Silas smiled back in return. "I am here to claim what is mine."

"And what is that?"

Silas stepped forward from the large group behind him. "You're sitting on it."

The throne room remained quiet for what felt like a long time until Joffrey's laughter echoed through the large open room.

"You have no claim to the crown, not anymore," Joffrey chuckled.

Silas turned from his amused brother to his disappointed mother.

"Let's just say, I have more of a claim to the throne than you do, Joffrey."

"That's enough Silas!" Cersei snipped at her son. Silas knew he touched a nerve and it made him smile, to know he had an advantage over his mother for once.

"Your father made Joffrey his heir—"

"Not without your own maneuvering mother, after you told him I was too weak to be King."

"That still doesn't change the fact that Joffrey is still the rightful King, on your father's orders."

"Well, the late King apparently had a change of heart, before his death."

Cersei sat silently on her plush velvet red seat. Her eyes watched her eldest son intently.

"What is your meaning?" She asked him

Silas turned to Lord Stark who limped over to stand beside the Prince. The Hand of the King took the rolled piece of parchment he'd been keeping on his person's since his friend asked him to write it.

"Ser Barristan, "Lord Stark called out the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Ser Barristan stepped out from the line of Kings guardsmen. "I believe no man here could question your honor."

Ned Stark held out the parchment for the Lord Commander to take.

Ser Barristan examined the parchment before turning to the Queen.

"King Robert's seal, unbroken."

Ser Barristan opened the letter and read its contents out loud for all to hear.

"Prince Silas Baratheon is herein renamed heir to the Iron throne and King of the Seven Kingdoms."

Joffrey looked as if he had been slapped in the face while Cersei's didn't give any hint of what she was thinking.

"May I see that letter, Ser Barristan?" Cersei asked the Lord Commander as she stood up from her seat to take the parchment.

Silas' mother read the letter for herself.

"Heir to the Iron Throne," she read that part aloud. She looked up to her eldest son. She gave him a smirk just before she ripped the letter into four quarters and tossed onto the floor. "Is this meant to be your crown, Silas? This piece of paper?"

Silas closed his eyes, disappointed at his mother because he had hoped she would stand down and he wouldn't have to use force. Despite everything, she was still his mother and his love for her was unconditional, as any sons would.

"Those were the Kings words!" Ser Barristan looked at Cersei in shock at what she had done.

"We have a new King now." Cersei looked ahead to her eldest still standing before her. "And he sits on the Iron Throne."

"Mother, don't do this," Silas cautioned her. "You know Joffrey has no claim to the crown."

"LIAR!" Joffrey yelled at his brother.

"Silas, the last time we spoke about your claim, you told me you didn't want to be King. Why now?” His mother asked him.

"Because, I know that if I allow Joffrey to be King, he will burn the Seven Kingdoms to ash."

Joffrey sat fuming upon the Iron throne, looking as if he was about to throw a tantrum.

"And you think you are a better choice?"

"Better than Joffrey?" Silas inquired. "Of course I would be the better choice."

Silas took a few steps closer toward the throne, closer to his mother.

"Please mother, step down and end this now," Silas pleaded, hoping to somehow tap into her maternal instincts. To get her to see that a fight is not the answer to this. "There is no need for bloodshed."

Cersei shook her head. "You disappoint me so much, Silas. Bend the knee. You and Lord Stark bend the knee and swear fealty to your new king and I will allow you to keep your title as Prince and heir to Casterly Rock and Lord Stark can go live out the remainder of his days in that gray waste he calls home."

"Joffrey has no claim to the throne," Ned Stark spoke up. "I will not swear fealty to a pretender."

"Nor will I!" Silas declared.

"You both condemn yourselves with your own mouths," Cersei smirked at the two men. "Ser Barristan, seize the traitors."

The Lord Commander hesitated to do as he was commanded. Silas could see it. The famed Knight looked at Silas with regret in his eyes as he stepped over to the 'traitors'.

Silas was saddened it had come to this. He never wanted to come to this, to be on opposing sides with Ser Barristan. He held the man with the utmost respect for him. He didn't want to have to fight him, possibly kill him.

Lord Stark's men drew their swords as Ser Barristan walked over to their Lord, ready to protect them.

"Ser Barristan is a good man, a loyal man. Do him no harm!" Ned Stark ordered his men. Silas was thankful for Lord Starks command. He didn't want his mentor to be harmed so needlessly.

Cersei scoffed in response.

"You think he stands alone?"

Sandor Clegane drew out his sword, ready to fight.

"KILL THEM!" Joffrey suddenly ordered his sworn shield and the Kingsguard. "KILL THEM ALL I COMMAND IT!"

The Lannister guard along with the Kingsguard drew their weapons. Silas was thankful they had the City Watch on their side. With them, they outnumbered the Lannister guard and the Kingsguard combined.

"Commander!" Lord Stark turned to Janos Slynt. "Take the Queen and her children into custody. Escort them back to the Royal Apartments and keep them there, under guard."

Janos Slynt nodded to Ned Stark and turned to the City Watch around them. "Men of the Watch!"

The City Watch got into attack position. Their spears and swords brandished and ready to defend, to fight.

It was tense in those moments that seemed to last a lifetime. With all the people in that large throne room, it was so quiet but the tension between everyone buzzed through the room as everyone waited for the first move.

"I want no bloodshed, nor does your son. Tell your men to lay down their swords."

It was at that moment, Silas knew something was wrong. Before he could do anything about it, he heard Janos Slynt yell out "NOW!"

Before Silas could draw his own sword, three Lannister men attacked him. One smacked him hard with the flat of their sword blade on the back of the Prince's head. The two others tackled him down to the ground and restrained his arms behind his back. They weren't allowed to kill him, he was still a part of the royal family so subduing him will have to do.

Silas struggled from their grasp when they lifted him to his knees but the one that smacked him in the head punched him hard in the gut, knocking the wind out of him for a few seconds.

Looking up, Silas hastily searched for Lord Stark amongst the slaughter of his men. Finally, he found the Warden of the North being held at knifepoint by Petyr Baelish.  _ That fucking traitor! _

-

-

 

"After that, they killed any person in the service of Lord Stark, his retainers, his servants, everyone." Silas began concluding his tale of his botched attempt to take the throne to the Queen. "They managed to capture and hold his eldest daughter hostage but his youngest managed to slip away from the castle though I doubt she is still alive by now."

"What did they do to you and Ned Stark?" Dany asked him.

"They put us in the black cells beneath the Red Keep for a few days," Silas told her. "Lord Varys visited us with some water and news with what was happening and tried to convince us to comply and claim Joffrey as the rightful King."

A small halfhearted smile crept onto the former Prince's pouty lips. "Ned Stark was stubborn about it. He claimed he would rather die than lie and say Joffrey was the true heir to the throne. It wasn't until Lord Varys mentioned his daughters did the Northern Lord change his mind."

Dany could see Silas' expression turn solemn as he continued to speak.

"He agreed to lie to everyone at the Sept of Baelor and claim Joffrey as the one true heir of the Iron Throne, to ensure the safety of his own daughters and live out his days in the Nights Watch. But…" Silas exhaled a deep angry breath before he continued telling Dany what had happened.

"…but my brother, the sadist that he is, decided to make Eddard Stark an example of those who commit 'treason' and had him beheaded."

"Not long after, I was brought out of the Black Cells and escorted to the throne room where I was sentenced by my own mother and brother into slavery. They didn't want my blood on their hands, or at least my mother didn't. So, I was sent half a world away to die by someone else's hand instead."

Silas leaned back into his seat, his long fingers tapped on the top of the table.

"A few weeks on the Narrow Sea and a few more traveling through Essos, I found myself being purchased by Kraznys to be a fighter in the pits."

When he finished retelling the events of his enslavement, Silas sat back and waited for the young Queen to say something.

Putting the Silver goblet she had in her hands back down onto the table, she observed the young man for a moment before saying anything.

"Despite the fact that you tried to claim the throne," Dany began. "You did it with good intentions and at the behest of others. With all that I've heard, I have decided to keep you around with me."

Silas sighed in relief at hearing the news of not being sent away. At least she isn't going to kill me.

"Ser Barristan informed me that you were in good favor with the many Lords of Westeros."

Silas nodded. It was true. When he took his father's place in the small council, he made sure that he helped as many Lords, as well as the common folk, in need of aide, gaining him many friends throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

"I do, your Grace. When the time comes, I'll be sure to call them to aid."

"Good, we'll need as many supporters from Westeros that we can get. Now, as for you…"

Dany stood up from her seat and walked over to Silas on the opposite end of the table.

The young Queen was short. Even seated, Silas was the same height as her.

Being this close to her, he could see how flawless her soft fair skin was, how luscious her rosy red lips are and how beautiful her violet colored eyes glittered in the light shining from her open window beside her. Silas could smell the irresistible scent of lavender that emanated from the young Queen as she stood before him.

"I will accept you into my army if you swear fealty to me and claim me as your one and only Queen. You will not serve under the black and gold banner of house Baratheon nor the gold and crimson banner of house Lannister. You will serve under my banner, the banner of House Targaryen."

Silas stood up from his chair, towering over the petite woman before him. In a swift motion, he got down on one knee, his emerald gaze never leaving the Queen's violet eyes.

"I pledge my life to you, Queen Daenerys Targaryen. I shall claim no other as my ruler. I promise to honor and protect you and if need be, give my life for you."

Daenerys motioned for Silas to get up from the floor.

"Rise, Silas Baratheon," She instructed the former Prince. Silas stood up tall once again at the behest of his new Queen.

"Welcome to the Targaryen Army."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, how was that fight? Six against one! In truth, I drew heavily from the TV series Spartacus Blood and sand for the inspiration of the fight.  
> As usual, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please let me know what you think. If you have any questions or comments please feel free message me or leave a review and I will respond as soon as possible.


	3. The lies that were told

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei and her family learn of Silas' fate or at least what they are told. Silas meets one of Daenerys' handmaidens and Dany interrogates Silas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the third chapter!

**The Other Prince**

 

**CH.3**

 

**The lies that were told**

 

 

**_Cersei Lannister_ **

**_Kings Landing; The Queen's chambers_ **

Cersei watched from her high balcony the bustle of the overpopulated city below as the fellow citizens went about their day on this warm sunny afternoon.

The weather won't be so warm for long. The small council had already received the white raven from the citadel months ago, signaling the end of the decade long summer and the beginning of winter. The weather had already begun to turn, Cersei can feel it in the air. The hot days were becoming cooler that she began to wear gowns with thicker sleeves. Every night, she closes her balcony doors and windows and sleeps with thicker blankets to keep her warm.

Today, the weather felt nice for once. It wasn't too cold nor too hot, it was just right.

The cool breeze coming from the sea swept across the Queen's balcony as she sipped on her favorite Arbor red from the silver goblet clutched in her hand.

For once in a long time, Cersei felt at peace. For the moment, the troubles of the Seven Kingdoms were not concerning her. With her father's unexpected aide and the help of the Tyrell army, Stannis Baratheon was defeated and his fleet lay at the bottom of Blackwater Bay. Stannis himself turn tailed and sailed back to Dragonstone with what little remained of his army.

Cersei smirked at the thought of Stannis and how angry he must be to lose his army and the chance to take the Iron Throne all in a single evening. Stannis hated losing just as much as he hated being wrong.

Now, the only threat that remained for her family was Robb Stark and his wild Northern Army attacking the Lannister forces as he traveled further south. However, her father assured her and the rest of the small council during their meetings that the self-proclaimed King of the North won't be a problem for long.

What made her really happy, however, was the news that her beloved brother Jaime had managed to escape from his Northern captives. It made her heart swell to know Jaime is no longer the Stark's prisoner. Her Lord father has many camps throughout the Riverlands, all Jaime has to do is find one and they will safely return him to Kings Landing, to her. She longed for his presence, to feel his touch once again. Ever since her Jaime left the city, Cersei felt so empty and alone without her other half. She tried to fill that emptiness with other men, her cousin Lancel was the only with the closest resemblance to her brother, but with him on the mend after getting injured during Stannis' siege, he was sent back to Lannisport, leaving Cersei once again alone with only her wine as a source of comfort. That didn't matter to her now, she will soon be reunited with her only love and everything will be alright once again. Everything was finally looking brighter for her, even the betrothal of her King son to that Tyrell harlot couldn't dampen the happiness she felt.

The sudden knock on her chamber doors caused Cersei to leave her thoughts and return to the real world once again.

She didn't go to the door but instead waited for her guards waiting on the other side of her door to announce the guest.

"It's Lord Varys, your Grace." One of the guards announced to the Queen.

"Send him in," Cersei commanded rather gleefully. Maybe the spider finally has some news on her brother's whereabouts.

The tall thick wooden door creaked open halfway before the round bald perfumed figure of the Master of Whispers glided through the doorway and made his way across the Queen's chambers to the balcony where the Queen Regent remained.

Varys stopped at the edge between the bedroom and the balcony, making sure there was enough space between himself and the Queen.

"Your Grace," Lord Varys greeted Cersei courteously with a bow. "I come bearing news-"

"About Jaime?" Cersei interrupted her dazzling emerald eyes glistened with the hope of information about her brother, her lover.

"I am afraid I still have no knowledge on Ser Jaime's whereabouts," Varys apologized to the Queen.

Cersei's hopeful expression quickly changed to a frown of disappointment as she glared at the eunuch before her.

"Then what news do you have for me?" She asked him, annoyed that the bald perfumed man was bothering her with something so fruitless.

The spider uncrossed his arms and slipped his hands from his large flowing sleeves. In his right hand, he held a rolled piece of parchment.

"News from the East."

_ The Targaryen bitch _ . Cersei rolled her eyes at hearing what news the Master of Whispers came to bring her.

"Any information regarding Daenerys Targaryen can be given to my father or discussed during the next council meeting," Cersei answered rather coolly. She was about to send him away when he cleared his throat to speak again.

"Forgive me Your Grace but, this news is not about Daenerys Targaryen." Lord Varys paused a moment, waiting for the Queen to respond.

Cersei knew then to whom Varys was speaking of. There was only one other person in Essos that concerned her.

"Silas," She whispered to herself.

It has been months since she last received an update on her son's well being across the Narrow Sea.

Not long after her eldest son's banishment did guilt from what she had done plagued her thoughts. He was her son, after all. She might not have loved him as much as her younger three, but she still loved him nonetheless.

One evening, she called for Lord Varys and ordered him to have his 'little birds' in Essos keep an eye on Silas for her and send news of his well being. She was surprised when she found out he was purchased to be a fighter for the pits in Astapor, especially since the boy didn't care for violence. Nonetheless, he has talent since he managed to survive this long.  _ He is a talented fighter, just like his father. _

And what talent he had for it. He won every match he was sent into. It didn't matter what opponent he faced, man woman or beast, he faced each one and defeated them all.

Varys didn't know this, or at least Cersei didn't think he knew this, but she keeps all of the letters about Silas in a little chest hidden away.

A small smile crossed her face as she thought of her son winning another match.

"What news have you brought about Silas?" Cersei asked the Master of Whispers.

The bald man didn't respond right away, but the melancholic look Varys expressed made Cersei's smile falter to a frown. Something wasn't right.

"What news?" She asked again, this time more commanding. She tried to keep herself composed around her informant.

Instead of answering her, the Spider held out the parchment for her to take. He'd rather let the written words give her the news rather than he himself.

Cersei snatched the letter from his grasp and hastily unraveled the parchment and began reading its contents.

**_My Lord,_ **

**_The Black Stag was hunted down by six hunters and no longer grazes in the meadows. A large sum was paid for his death._ **

Again and again, Cersei read the words scrawled down on the parchment but she still couldn't believe it. It felt so surreal. Her son, her sweet Silas is dead.

The Queen tried her best to keep herself calm and composed, which she managed to do with her facial expression but she couldn't stop her hands from trembling.

Cersei hated showing her emotions and vulnerability, even if it was just a hint. She is a Queen and Queen's have to be strong, even when given such tragic news.

She could still remember that last day she saw Silas, the day he was sold into slavery for his punishment. She remembered how hurt and angry he looked at her and remembered his pleas, begging her to not do this just before the slavers bodyguards knocked Silas out and dragged him away to their ship. That memory will be the last she will have of her son.

She gave herself a moment to regain her composure before she said anything, not wanting her voice to crack as she spoke. Cersei raised her icy glare back to the Master of Whispers, who was still waiting for a response.

"Do you…do you know how…how he…" the Queen had a hard time trying to find the right words to say. It was more difficult than she thought it would be to try to act casual about her child's death.

The spider, however, understood what Cersei wanted to know.

"When I was informed about Silas' death, I asked my little birds that had been watching him what had happened. They told me he died in the fighting pits, he was matched to fight six men alone-"

Cersei closed her emerald eyes, not sure that she really wanted to hear about her son's ill-fated fight. It wasn't even a fight, it was an execution.

She could feel her heart-wrenching in her chest and her throat throb in pain as she tried to keep from crying as she imagined her son, her eldest baby dying, alone for the entertainment of others. She could imagine seeing the crowd laughing and cheering and her son lying on the floor choking on his blood.  _ What have I done? _

For the first time in a long time, the Queen felt something within her that had become so foreign to her. Guilt. Guilt for what she had put her eldest son through. Now, he paid the ultimate price and it was her fault. She didn't want his blood on her hands so she sold him off to be executed by someone else just to keep her hands clean. Yet, as she looked at her trembling hands she could see that they were still stained with her son's blood, even if she didn't kill him herself she might as well had.

Cersei always knew that news like this would come to her, it was just a matter of time. However, that still didn't prepare her to receive the terrible news.

"They said that he managed to kill all six men," Varys continued softly. The Queen's eyes continued to glare at the man as she silently listened. "He managed to live long enough to claim victory before collapsing in the arena. He died within minutes, from what they told me. It sounded like it was a glorious death, something most slaves are never granted."

_ There is nothing glorious about dying as a slave, for someone's amusement, _ Cersei sorrowfully thought to herself.

With a deep exhale of breath, The Queen straightened herself before speaking to the man before her. 

"Write a letter to the Master that purchased Silas," Cersei calmly ordered to Varys, who looked back at her rather confused. "Tell him to send Silas body back to us so that he may be laid to rest by his family."

"Forgive me Your Grace, but that might not be possible," Lord Varys cautiously informed the Queen as she glared at him.

"Why not?" she asked the Master of Whispers in a cold calm tone.

"This letter took a few weeks, at the very least, to be brought from across the Narrow Sea. Your Son has most likely been deceased for a while now. I'm sure his Master has long since disposed of Silas' body."

"Disposed of?" Cersei didn't like how that word was being used. She didn't want to think of what they could have done to her son’s body. “What do you mean by that?”

"When a slave dies, the Master's usually feed the bodies to their animals or burn them and scatter the ashes to the wind, a common practice in Essos. I'm sorry to say, there most likely isn't a body left to be buried."

Cersei remained silent and still, her jaw clenched shut as slow deep breaths exhaled from her flared nostrils. She wanted to scream, God's did she want to scream.

Her son, he didn't deserve to be a meal for animals or burnt into nothing. He was a kind sweet boy that was too good for this world. Who only wanted the best for the Seven Kingdoms and his family. Silas only tried to take the Iron Throne because he thought he could stop this war before it began, Cersei could see that now, but her pride got the best of her. Robert was a cruel man, to her especially and she always spited him by lashing out at Silas because of his uncanny resemblance to her pathetic excuse of a husband. He even had a few subtle mannerisms that Robert had, which used to make her cringe and dislike the boy.

It infuriated her, even more, when Silas marched into the throne room beside that pious Northern Lord and his household guard to take the throne from her Joffrey. It infuriated her so much that she didn't go and see her son while he was imprisoned. Now, she would do anything to see him again, to see his beaming smile that could light up a room and those emerald eyes that he inherited from her.

"Your Grace?" Cersei looked up to see the concerned look of Lord Varys as he watched her closely. He must have been calling out to her this whole time. "What should we tell the council? We can't keep Silas' death a secret. Your father has already asked questions about your son's whereabouts, no doubt concerned about his heir to Casterly Rock and when he will return, now that he has managed to overturn Silas' banishment."

What Lord Varys said was true. Her father, the Mighty Lord Tywin Lannister has been asking about Silas and where his grandson is after every small council meeting. Now, she and the rest of the small council couldn't very well tell him that they all had a hand in selling Silas off to a slave trader, even Joffrey understood that it would be a wise choice to not inform his grandfather of what really happened. The fear of repercussion from the infamous Lord was strong.

Instead of telling Tywin the truth, Cersei only told him that Silas was banished for trying to take the throne from Joffrey and sent him across the sea to Essos to spend the remainder of his days in exile. Her father didn't like hearing that. She hadn't seen him that angry in years, not since Jaime was sent to be a member of the Kingsguard for Aerys Targaryen. 

Within days upon learning of Silas’ ‘banishment’, Tywin immediately drew up the papers of pardon for Silas and had Varys send the letter across the Narrow Sea. That was almost two months ago and the Lord has still been waiting for a reply that will never come. Each time the intimidating Lord hand asked for news about Silas, the room they were in would always fall to a deafening silence. It was a good thing the Master of Whispers was good at lying and would give Tywin a convincing lie to appease her Lord father for a time. This lie, however, will have to be more convincing than the others. This is the death of Lord Tywin's heir. Her father wouldn't brush this off so easily. He would send men to the ends of the world to find out what had happened to Silas. He will not take too lightly of the death of his heir.

Cersei's mind was racing with so many thoughts as she slowly paced near her desk. Thoughts about her son. Thoughts about how her father, as well as the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, will react to the news. Now, she had to lie about how her son died to everyone. 

"We told my father that Silas had joined a group of mercenaries, the Blood Thorns if I recall."

The Eunuch nodded his bald head in agreement. He made up the fake mercenary group when Lord Tywin asked for the name of the guild that Silas had supposedly joined. If they had told the name of an existing mercenary company, Tywin would have surely sent a message to their leader and then the truth would have gotten out when a reply returns to him with the news that Silas was not a part of their company.

"Then I want you to write a letter, as the leader of the company, informing us of Silas' untimely death," Cersei continued. "Make up something for how he died, I don't care, but make it heroic, Silas deserves that at least. Have it done by tonight so that we may present the letter during tomorrow's meeting. The sooner we get this done, the better."

The Spider bowed and accepted the command bestowed upon him.

With nothing left to say, Cersei thanked the Lord for keeping an eye on her son and dismissed him from her chambers.

Once Varys had left her large room and closed the door behind him, Cersei collapsed into the chair behind her desk. Her body was no longer able to hold in the pain and sadness that filled her.

In her rage, she released a scream that had been building up inside and pushed everything on her desk off to the side and scatter onto the cold stone floor.

Her body shook as she took a deep breath from her wide open mouth and wailed a loud cry as she clutched her chest where her heart pounded in a fast rhythm. Warm streams of tears flowed from each side of her tightly shut eyes and dripped onto her gold and crimson gown.

Cersei didn't realize just how much she cared for her eldest until now. Asking Varys to watch over him felt more like it was obligatory because Silas was her son. However, the pain she felt in her heart, in her body when notified of his death, proved that she truly did care for him, more than she thought she ever could for her son sired by her despicable husband.

"My boy…my sweet boy…" The Queen repeatedly whimpered to herself. It was all she could say, all she could think about was her son.

Once she could no longer shed a tear, Cersei sat in a calm silence when her crying wore her out, making her feel tired. Too tired even to move from the cushioned desk chair she sat on.

The last thing that came to her mind before sleep overcame the Queen, was of Silas standing tall and strong with a big smile on his handsome face.

"My sweet boy… I'm so sorry… so so sorry…" she breathed quietly as her body relaxed into the chair and fell asleep into a deep slumber.

 

-

-

 

**_Tyrion Lannister_ **

The Great Sept of Baelor was crowded with the Lords and Lady's of the Seven Kingdoms, the ones from the Capitol and the Westerlands and outside stood the common folk, all crowding around the great building to pay their last respects to the late Prince, Silas Baratheon.

Tyrion stood beside his family at the head of the crowd as they listened to the words of prayer cited by the High Septon. However, he wasn't listening to the dreary voice of the pompous man who spoke of a young man he didn't even know. No, Tyrion's mind was still on the day he found out about his beloved nephew's untimely death two weeks ago.

Varys had presented his Lord father with a letter sent by the leader of the mercenary group called the Blood Thorns, a mercenary group he never heard of, who read the letter aloud for the council to hear. The note informed them that Silas had died protecting his fellow men in an ambush out in the Dothraki Sea by a large Khalasar.

Tyrion had never seen his father so furious before, not even when his father found out he married a whore when he was younger. For once, the anger was not directed at him but at his sister Cersei. Their father was usually so calm and composed that it was foreign to see him show any emotion like this. 

He would have enjoyed watching the reprimanding of his sister who so rightly deserved it if the cause of it wasn't about his nephew.

Tyrion was surprised when he heard the news that Silas tried to take the throne from Joffrey, considering that he never showed interest in being King. Something told him that it wasn't Silas' idea to take the throne.

His father yelled at Cersei, calling her a fool for banishing her only competent son to the other side of the world and blamed her for his death. Cersei didn't say anything but took everything that her father yelled at her in silence.

Cersei tried to justify her actions, only to be interrupted by her father's loud commanding voice saying he didn't care for her justification and continued to condemn what she did. 

For once, Tyrion and his father agreed on something, it was indeed Cersei's fault for Silas' death. If she hadn't been so prideful and just sent Silas to Casterly Rock instead of letting him sail off to Essos then this wouldn't have happened. Tywin would have still had his heir and Tyrion would have still had his beloved nephew.

Tyrion asked the Spider when Silas' body will be sent back to them. He was horrified to find out that they wouldn't send the body because there was nobody to be sent. Tyrion couldn't believe it. They couldn't even put Silas' body to rest within the Sept.

After the small council meeting, Tyrion waited until he was in the confines of his chambers before he released that anger and sadness that he built up inside. Gods, never did he want to hit his sister more than he did that night. Her and Joffrey, he knew his second nephew was a part of it as well. Joffrey hated Silas in every way and Tyrion was sure he would have enjoyed exiling his brother from Westeros.

It had been a hard two weeks for Tyrion after hearing the news about his nephew. He began drinking more than usual, hoping to forget Silas in a drunken stupor. When he wasn't drinking he tried to keep busy with work as the new Master of Coin. At night, it was the hardest not to think about Silas. He couldn't help picture Silas dying, alone in a foreign land. Tyrion would wake up crying for his nephew, his paramour, Shae, would hold him in her arms and consoled him until he fell asleep again. He was lucky to have someone so caring.

Tyrion looked around at his surroundings, watching the people walk to the gilded casket made for Silas and pay their respects to his family. With nobody to present to people like most funeral traditions, the family decided to have Silas' likeness carved onto the casket and set a table with a portrait of the late Prince place beside the casket like a small memorial. Tyrion was impressed with how well the artist caught Silas' features. 

When the Tyrell family came by to pay their respects, Tyrion could feel Cersei tense in anger. His sister wasn't particularly fond of the marriage arrangement between Joffrey and the Tyrell girl Margaery. She seemed to look more livid when Margaery stepped over to her son's casket, her fingers tracing the lining of Silas' face carved into the stone. For once, that beautiful smile she always had was gone. In its stead, Tyrion could see she was genuinely sad for the loss of his nephew.

It didn't surprise him to see Margaery sad for the loss of Silas. She and his nephew had a secret romance for a while. He remembered once catching the two in a rather heated embrace in a secluded area of the gardens.

Tyrion was impressed that his rather reserved nephew would do something like that. Later that night, he went to his nephew's chambers to tell him to be more careful about where he does such salacious acts if he doesn't want to be caught, especially by his mother and face her wrath. He didn't want Cersei to punish Silas for just being a boy infatuated with a pretty girl.

Silas apologized and swore that he and Margaery didn't do more than kiss…well, maybe just a little more than kissing but they never slept together, which surprised Tyrion. The son of Robert Baratheon not bedding a woman that caught his attention, it made Tyrion wonder if Silas was really the Kings son. With a mother as overbearing as Cersei, Tyrion wouldn't have blamed Silas if he sought after a woman or two to spite the woman. He was pretty sure his sister was a big part of Robert's constant infidelity.

However, how Robert was with women, Silas was completely different. He could tell that Silas really cared for Margaery and vice versa, the way the two acted around each other wasn't the way people pretending would act. The way Silas talked about her when it was just the two of them, Tyrion could tell that his nephew was in love. It was only a matter of time he would hear of a marriage arrangement between the two. Which is why it shocked him to find out the two had ended their relationship so suddenly, even more so when he found out it was Silas who called it quits on their trysts. When he asked why, Silas smiled a sad smile and responded: "She wants to marry a King, not a Prince."

Tyrion watched Margaery closely. The gorgeous flower of Highgarden was always good at masking her emotions with a smile and a few sweet words but today, right now, she couldn't hide the grief she was feeling, not even in the presence of her betrothed, who didn't seem to pay attention to his future wife. In fact, Joffrey looked bored as he stood with his family, his arms crossed at his chest and he impatiently tapped his foot on the marble floor.

Margaery didn't seem to care though if people saw her grieving. Not even when Cersei glared at her when Margaery caressed the carved likeness of Silas with her fingers.

The young Lady gave her condolences to each member of the family before making her way down the line with her grandmother who gently led her granddaughter through the crowd to a more secluded area.

_ King or not, when it came to you Silas, I don't think it mattered to her as long as she could be with you, _ Tyrion thought to himself, hoping Silas somehow heard him from wherever he may be.

Tyrion glared down the line at his family. His King nephew looked positively bored at his own brother's funeral, tapping his foot on the floor and huffing in boredom, which gradually angered Tyrion to the point where he had to look away for fear of doing something regrettable to Joffrey. His nephew couldn't even show an ounce of respect for his eldest brother and wear black in mourning, instead, he decides to wear a crimson and gold outfit like it was any other day in Kings Landing.

Moving his gaze, Tyrion looked to his sister standing straight in her black gown, her hands intertwined together as they rested against her stomach. She ignored the condolences, her eyes never leaving the painting of Silas placed on a small table at the head of the coffin.

Cersei didn't cry in front of everyone, not even when Varys presented the tragic news to the council, but her eyes were constantly red and tired looking these past couple weeks, a clear sign that she does indeed have a soul and that she had some compassion for her eldest. Something that was greatly put into question until recently.

Tommen was the only one from the family that didn't or couldn't guise his emotions. The boy might be nearing manhood, but that didn't stop the tears falling down his flushed cheeks that he wiped away with his trembling hands.

Tommen loved his eldest brother and Silas loved him back. To Tommen, Silas was the father figure in his life since their own spent his free time with women and wine. When Tommen had a problem, it was Silas he went to for help.

Way on the other side standing at the head of the family was the mighty Lord Tywin Lannister, who looked as stern as he always does and gave curt nods to those who offered their sympathies. Tywin chose to act like his Queen daughter, choosing to act like the death of his kin did not affect him. However, Tyrion knew by his father's demeanor these past couple weeks that the death struck a hard blow to the man. It wasn't because of the death of his grandson but the death of his heir that affected him. Tywin's legacy was once again in danger. With Jaime, his eldest son, in the Kingsguard and is forbidden from inheriting land, He was forced to pass him over.

Yes, Tywin did have another son and grandson to continue his legacy but he didn't trust either of them with Casterly Rock. Tywin considered Tommen weak and easily swayed by people. In fact, the youngest grandson reminded Tywin of his own late father, a weak man that nearly destroyed the family's name. Then there was Tyrion who, according to Tywin, brought shame to the Lannister name from just his dwarfish appearance.

Tyrion could still remember that day he was passed along in the line of succession for Casterly Rock…

**Flashback**

**Five Years Ago.**

The throne room was filled with guests, of Lords and Lady's from all over the Seven Kingdoms, all to celebrate the fifteenth name day of the eldest Prince.

Tyrion sat the long table that the Lannister family shared with the Royal family, his glass of wine filled to the brim with the dark red liquid.

From his seat, he could see his eldest nephew dancing with every young Lady close by. Well, more like him being pulled by the girls to dance with them.

Tyrion could only chuckle in amusement as he watched his poor nephew being pulled in all directions by the girls.  _ Silas, too kind to decline a request from a woman. _

"Having fun little brother?"

Tyrion turned his head to the figure of his older brother Jaime, standing tall in his pristine white Kingsguard armor. The knight scooted the seat next to Tyrion and sat down.

"Immensely," Tyrion responded with a smile as he turned back to Silas who was now being dragged across the dancefloor by one of the young ladies.

"Why aren't you out there dancing with all the rest of the guests?" Jaime asked his little brother as he took the pitcher on the table and poured himself some wine.

"Oh, you know me," Tyrion began with a sly smile on his face. "I don't want to upstage the other Lords and make them jealous when I steal their women with my amazing and graceful dancing."

Jaime chuckled into his cup at his brother's response.

"Besides, I'd much rather watch our awkward nephew being passed around from girl to girl."

"The girls seem to love him," Jaime commented as he watched the gaggle of highborn girls surround their nephew Prince, no doubt pleading with him to pick them to dance with next.

Tyrion glanced at his brother who was glaring not at Silas but at their fat drunk brother by law. The King was laughing boisterously while sitting at the main table, one hand holding onto his large goblet of wine that sloshed out of the cup while his other hand smacked the bottoms of every servant girl that passed by the table. Some of them looked very uncomfortable and with good reason. Sitting beside the King was their Queen Sister glaring menacingly at the girls as if they were to blame for her husband’s actions. It wouldn't surprise Tyrion the least if his sister ordered her guards to personally deal with those servant girls just to spite her husband, not that he would care.

Tyrion could see the glint of anger in his brother's eyes aimed at the loud King that so openly mocked the marriage between him and Cersei. Though Jaime never openly admitted, Tyrion was smart enough to know what was going on between his brother and sister.

Jaime's gaze then went back to Silas who was dancing with a young girl who looked ecstatic to be dancing with the Prince.

The glare Jaime gave was the same one that he had been giving the King.

Tyrion knew what his brother was thinking. Jaime should know better than to lump Silas with his father, to still believe that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. After spending so much time with him, Jaime should know that isn't true when it comes to Silas.

"Silas might look like Robert, but that is the only trait the two share," Tyrion responded, defending his favorite nephew. "You of all people should know this brother. You know he isn't like his father. He actually does care about the well being of other's beside himself and treats women with more respect than his father ever could. The woman Silas marries will be a very lucky woman."

Jaime nodded reluctantly in agreement with his little brother. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't be angry with the boy. Silas is a fine young man who has not been corrupted by this foul city and the liars that slink around the Red Keep.

A half hour past, the music died down and the large crowd of guests applauded to the band.

The time for gifts has arrived.

Silas sat at the main table between his mother and father and thanked the guests that lined up to give him his name day gifts.

The first gifts came from his parents. Cersei's handmade gift to him was a crimson velvet cape bearing the proud gold lion of her house and a golden lion head brooch with rubies for eyes to pin the cape to his clothing.

Tyrion wasn't surprised that his sister tried to force her house colors on her children rather than have them wearing the gold and black colors of the father, well… at least on her three youngest.

It did surprise him though when Silas turned the cape over and saw that his mother had sewn the inside with the black stag of house Baratheon sewed on as well.

"Do you like it, Silas?" Cersei asked her eldest, hoping that he did like it. Tyrion assumed that this would be a way his sister could bridge the gap between herself and her son.

Tyrion didn't know what happened between Silas and his mother but for the past few years, his nephew seemed to distance himself from Cersei. He remembered how much Silas wanted his mother's attention and affection but now, Silas seemed to want nothing to do with her. He assumed it was about being passed for the crown but that couldn't have been it, Silas has told him many times that he didn't want to be King. No, it was something else and whatever it was, it was bad enough for him to be repulsed by his mother.

_ Maybe he found out about Cersei and Jaime? _ Tyrion thought to himself. A revelation like that could change a person's attitude toward someone. Now that he thought about it, Silas has been acting rather cold towards Jaime too and he has always been close to his uncle until a few years ago as well.

"It's…lovely mother, thank you." Tyrion heard Silas tell his mother, taking him out of his own personal investigation going on in his mind.

Silas smiled at his mother and gave her a kiss on her cheek that made Cersei happy. Silas played the appreciative son to his mother, for the benefit of the crowd that watched them. However, Tyrion could see beyond the façade that no one else seemed to notice. Silas and Cersei exchanged a few private words to each other. From what Tyrion could see that smile Silas gave his mother slackened to a more fake one and his eyes glared at her in anger for a brief moment. Probably thought a handmade gift by her would fix whatever it is between the two. 

Cersei had tried to affectionately comb her fingers through her eldest's hair, but Silas caught her hand and kissed it for the crowd and thanked her again, to which the crowd aww'ed and clapped while the gift was taken away by a servant to make room for the next gift.

Roberts's gift was particularly heavy. Two servants actually had to carry it to the main table.

Silas stared surprised at the heavy War hammer his father gifted him.

"What do you think of it boy?" The King's loud voice rang through the throne room.

"It's a beautifully crafted weapon father," Silas complimented the heavy weapon. Indeed it was. The thick circular head of the silver steel hammer was smooth without a single flaw from the crafting. The edges were bordered with stag antlers that intertwined around the hammer on the front while the back side curved to sharp end to stab his enemies. The long handle was made from a thick oak wood painted black with gold colored leather strips weaved from the grip to the head of the hammer.

"Well, go on and pick it up, see how it feels in your hands!"

Silas hesitated for a moment before getting up and walking around the table to have more room to lift the heavy weapon. Indeed it was heavy, by the groans coming from Silas as he lifted the weapon from the table. 

Robert must not have known this but Silas preferred the elegance of the sword over the brutish weapon of a war hammer. Silas smiled his faux smile nonetheless to his father, who seemed happy that Silas appeared to like the weapon.

Silas decided to stay standing to receive the rest of his gifts so that he can personally thank each guest at a time.

Most of the gifts Silas received were rather too ostentatious for his taste. The Lords and Ladies presented him with big hunky gold jewelry with large gems or bright silk clothing with intricate designs on them.

Tyrion chuckled as he watched his nephew give the guests a fake smile and pretend to like their extravagant gifts. These types of gifts were not what the eldest prince liked. Silas wasn't fond of jewelry or expensive ornate clothing.

Besides the outrageous gifts, Silas did receive some rather spectacular gifts that he truly enjoyed.

Lord Mace Tyrell and his family gave Silas a handsome young black stallion bred and raised by the Lords eldest son, Willas.

Silas graciously accepted the wonderful gift and thanked the Lord Paramount of the Reach and his family for the gift as the servants took the reins and escorted the horse to the stables. When Silas caught sight of Margaery at her families table, he had given her a quick wink to go with the smile which she returned in kind.

Tyrion got up from his seat and retrieved his gift to present to his nephew. He didn't trust anyone to handle this rather delicate gift.

The dwarf bowed to the royal family, the King was too occupied with his wine goblet to care and Cersei barely gave him a semblance of a nod, though Silas grinned widely and bowed to him as well.

"My Prince, I see that you have received many…'splendid' gifts from these wealthy Lords."

Silas chuckled at his uncle's sarcasm and glanced at the gaudy trinkets and goblets and clothing that were completely unnecessary.

"I am afraid that my gift might be too plain and simple in comparison."

Tyrion stepped closer and carefully handed the Prince his wrapped square gift. It wasn't heavy and it certainly wasn't extravagant like the previous gifts, but Tyrion knew that Silas would like it nonetheless.

Silas' curious emerald eyes flitted between his uncle and the gift before unlacing the ribbon and opened the wrapping, revealing the gift to be an old frail book.

For a moment, his nephew stared attentively at the book without saying a word. The silence was making Tyrion feel a little uncomfortable, even a few of the guests began to snicker.

The King finally gave his attention to his son and laughed at the sight of the gift.

"A fuckin' book!" The fat drunk King roared in laughter. "What kind of gift is that?"

Tyrion tried his best to ignore the King and the rest of the guests as more and more joined in on the laughter. Their opinions did not concern him in the least but Silas' alone.

Finally, Silas' gaze moved away from the book and to his uncle. Relief spread through the little man when he saw the wide smile on his nephew's face.

"Throne of Dystopia," Silas repeated the title of the old worn book. "I can't believe you managed to find a copy let alone get one. I thought all copies were destroyed during the reign of Aegon the Unworthy."

"They were," Tyrion responded with a sly smile. "Except for the one copy that the banished Archmaester Donovar took with him across the Narrow Sea."

Silas' eyes widened at the information given to him about the rare book held in his hands.

"You…you mean that…that this book is the Archmaester's original copy?"

Tyrion nodded. "Indeed it is."

"How? How were you able to find it?"

"I contacted a few people I know across the Narrow Sea," Tyrion answered him. "The person was in possession with the book didn't want to give it up at first but nobody can turn down a Lannister."

Silas carefully placed the book on the table and walked over towards his uncle and scooped him up in for a big hug.

"You always bring me the best gifts," Silas told Tyrion as he set him back down.

"You're welcome nephew," Tyrion gave Silas a pat on the back as the two broke from their embrace and walked back to his seat.

Once the remainder of the Lords and Lady's gave their gifts, Tyrion's Lord father stood up from his seat carrying a long wooden cylinder tube in his hand as he made his way to the front to greet his grandson.

Tywin wasn't usually one to go last, deeming himself too important of a man to wait for his turn. Whatever he wanted to give to Silas must be something big, something he wanted everyone to see.

Silas seemed curious as well as he waited for his Grandfather, bowed and Silas returned the bow in respect.

"My Prince, as it is your fifteenth nameday, you are no longer a boy but considered a man now and as such deserve gifts befitting a man."

Tywin paused a moment and glanced at his youngest son, no doubt his father was talking about his gift for Silas.

Turning back to the Prince, the mighty Lord of the Westerlands continued his speech.

"As such, I have a gift for you that I believe is befitting a Prince becoming a man."

Lord Tywin motioned for the guards stationed at the doors to open them.

A Lannister servant walked through the doorway, strolling a cart with a red velvet sheet covering the contents within.

The servant stopped the cart when he reached the center of the Throne Room and bowed to the Prince as he walked off to the side.

Silas walked the remaining way to the cart and pulled away the sheet that covered his gift.

The guest's gasped in awe at the sight of the splendid set of armor gifted to the Prince.

The armor was colored black gilded with gold stripes on the chest plate. On the left side of the chest plate rested a lion head pauldron with his mouth open wide as if it was bellowing a mighty roar. The right pauldron was crafted into a stag, it even had a pair of antlers that protruded from its slender metallic head. Positioned in front of the chest plate was the helmet to go with the set, a lion's head with antlers protruding from the head.

Tyrion had to give it to his father, he certainly loved to brandish that proud Lannister lion whenever and wherever he can, even on his grandchildren. Though, he was surprised to see that his father had allowed the representation of House Baratheon on the set of armor.

"Do you like the gift, my Prince?" the mighty Lord sternly asked his grandson.

"The armor is…is a very handsome set," Silas responded, attempting to find the right words that would appease his grandfather. In truth, Tyrion knew this armor was far too ostentatious for his nephew's taste. Silas didn't like nor need fancy armor to wear. He cared more about protection than style.

"I…do like the stag bit…and the lion helm."

"Good, I'm pleased you like it because my heir needs to look the part if he is going to be Lord of Casterly Rock."

Silas nearly dropped his new helm onto the marble floor just about the same time Tyrion's glass crashed onto the table and shattered into many tiny pieces.

Tywin glanced at his son with a prideful smirk on his smug face.

Silas however, looked stunned in shock from the sudden and unexpected news he was given. The prince snapped his eyes over to his uncle Tyrion who only glared at him in return.

Tyrion knew it wasn't Silas' fault for taking what is rightfully his, but it didn't help that his father so openly announced it to the Lords and Lady's of Westeros, making them believe that he was not worthy to be Lord of Casterly Rock.

Lord Tywin took a step closer and put a hand on his grandson's shoulder, holding him in a firm grip.

"Silas Baratheon, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, by all the witnesses here in the Throne Room, I Lord Tywin of House Lannister name you, my sole heir to my seat at Casterly Rock and Lord Paramount of the Westerlands."

The entire Throne Room erupted into applause when Tywin finished his speech.

"What say you, my Prince?" Lord Tywin asked the still shocked young Prince. "Will you accept the title and responsibility?"

"I…don't know what to say," Silas finally spoke. "The offer is much too generous. I don't think I am worthy of such a station. Surely uncle-"

"Nonsense," the mighty Lord interrupted. “There is no other I would choose to take my place as Lord of Casterly Rock when I'm gone. Your mother and father have already agreed on it but I would like to hear your response as well."

Silas turned to his uncle, Tyrion could see the sorry look in his eyes for being given a station that he didn't deserve, that should rightfully be his.

"My Prince?" Lord Tywin said, gaining back Silas' attention. "What say you? Do you accept?"

Tyrion could tell that Silas didn't want to be Lord of Casterly Rock. Silas didn't even want to be a Lord at all. He wanted to travel the world and explore, not to sit and die in a castle.

Silas didn't want to accept the Lordship because it belonged to Tyrion, but to decline the offer would anger his grandfather, not to mention humiliate the prideful Lord.

The Throne Room remained abnormally quiet as they waited patiently for the princes' response.

"I..." Silas took a deep breath. "I…I accept."

Lord Tywin looked at his grandson, pleased with the answer and gave him a pat on the shoulder as the rest of the guest once again cheered and applauded at the Prince who would one day be Lord of the richest house in the Seven Kingdoms.

Tyrion could feel the eyes of the guest's watching him. When he glanced at them, he could see them whispering and snickering to each other, some even giggling and pointing at him.

When he could no longer take it, Tyrion pushed back his chair and got up.

"Tyrion-"

Jaime was cut short when his younger brother raised a hand to stop him and walked away, taking the pitcher of wine with him. Hopefully, it will be enough to make him drunk enough to pass out till the next day. The sooner this day is over, the better.

After a few minutes of stumbling drunk through the many halls, Tyrion found himself in the courtyard of the Red keep and sat beside the edge of the pond in the center.

The sky had darkened to a deep orange-red as the sun gradually began to set behind the towering castle.

He poured the remaining drops of wine into his mouth and tossed the pitcher onto the patch of grass he relaxed on. The wine, unfortunately, wasn't enough for him to pass out yet and forget about today.

Just like that, in an embarrassing display, his inheritance was taken away with just a few words.

Tyrion always knew that his father didn't particularly like him, but to pass him along and take away his inheritance to Casterly Rock was too cruel and to do it in front of many of the Lords and Lady's of Westeros as well as a new low for his father.

In the back of his mind, Tyrion knew he wouldn't inherit the Rock. He had hoped that his father would someday put aside his petty resentment of him because he was Tywin's son, his only son that could claim Casterly Rock since Jaime is part of the Kingsguard as has forsaken his inheritance and Lordship.

"Uncle Tyrion?"

Tyrion closed his eyes and shook his head at the sound of Silas' voice and took a deep breath. This wasn't the company he particularly wanted right now, but to turn away his nephew would make Silas feel worse than he already did. After all, it wasn't his fault for all of this.

"Congratulation's dear nephew," Tyrion slurred sarcastically and did a mocking bow to Silas. "Or should I say Congratulation's my Lord?"

Silas took a step back, clearly hurt by his favorite uncle's attitude towards him.

After apologizing to his uncle for disturbing him, Silas turned back around to leave Tyrion alone.

Realizing that he had been too harsh on the boy, Tyrion relaxed with a sigh exhaled from his mouth.

"I'm sorry Silas," Tyrion quickly apologized before Silas could leave the courtyard. He didn't want to be on bad terms with his nephew. "I'm just…a little drunk."

"And upset," Silas chuckled halfheartedly. Tyrion chuckled as well and beckoned his nephew to sit by him.

"I truly am sorry uncle," Silas apologized when he situated himself on the grass beside Tyrion. The dwarf turned his gaze from the darkening waters of the pond to his nephew and could see the sincerity in the young man's eyes. It’s what he liked about Silas. The boy truly cared for the well being of others. His feelings weren't faux like many others in this forsaken city. "Believe me, I had no idea this was going to happen and I certainly don't want Casterly Rock."

Giving his nephew a smile, Tyrion ruffled the boy's short floppy hair, as he has done since he was a child.

"I know and I don't blame you, Silas. But I do congratulate you, sincerely this time. I know you will be a fine Lord of Casterly Rock."

Tyrion picked up one of the many stones lying on the edge of the pond and tossed it into the water that made a glomp sound when it hit the water's surface and sank to the bottom.

"To be honest, I doubt I will even be Lord of Casterly Rock."

Tyrion turned to his nephew, who only stared thoughtfully at the rippled surface of the pond. "I don't know why, but I have this feeling that I will be dead before Lord Tywin."

Tyrion stared at Silas, very shocked at what he was saying to him. How could he even think that?

"Death is so afraid of your father, I'm sure he refuses to take him," Silas explained to his uncle. "Chances are the old man will live forever."

A smile formed on Silas' lips and only got larger when Tyrion began to smile and laugh with his nephew.

"Well, if Death somehow grows a pair of balls and I somehow miraculously become Lord of Casterly Rock," Silas began when their laughter died down. "I want you by my side uncle. To be my adviser, an equal partner in running the Lannister business."

Tyrion's eyes widened as he stared at his nephew.

"I'm not good with managing money," Tyrion finally responded, his voice rather quiet. "I'm much better at spending it."

"I'm not talking about just managing the Lannister wealth," Silas told him. "I mean everything. I might have the title but we split the power fifty-fifty."

Tyrion didn't know what to say. What Silas was offering to him, was possibly the most generous thing anyone has ever been with him.

"Or I could just give you Casterly Rock entirely," Silas suggested with a shrug of his shoulders as if the idea was no big deal. "Your father will be gone so he won't be able to object. When the time comes I could transfer the Lordship completely over to you-"

"No! No," Tyrion waved his hand for Silas to stop. "Half is good Silas. Half is more than I ever expected to have."

"Are you certain of this?" Tyrion cautiously asked his nephew.

Silas gave his uncle an assured smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I am very sure uncle. I can't think of a better person to help me run Casterly Rock.

**End flashback.**

  
  


_ Who would've thought he would be right? _  Tyrion thought to himself, remembering that talk he had with Silas.  _ That he would be gone from this world before my own father. _

Tyrion glared at his pompous looking father. How could a man like him still be alive and a good man like Silas be dead? This world truly wasn't fair.

Tyrion excused himself, not that anyone seemed to care. He could only take so much of the fake tears and condolences of Lords and Ladies that have never even met young Prince when he was alive. All he wanted right now was solitude and a lot of wine.

**Later that night.**

The evening was joined with the cool salty breeze of the ocean as Tyrion sat on one of the chairs beside his small round table placed out on his balcony. A pitcher of wine placed on the center of the tabletop and a goblet he drank from which he took and held in his hands and drank alone.

It has been like this for the past two weeks. Tyrion has been doing nothing but keeping to himself in his chambers and drinking wine.

He barely talked to Bronn or Podrick, which worried them greatly for their friend. The only other person Tyrion saw regularly was Shae but even she could feel herself being neglected of any attention by Tyrion's new solemn demeanor. Now, the two only see each other when they went to bed and when they wake up. With her being busy as Sansa's handmaiden, the time she and Tyrion had for each other was very little.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Tyrion practically jumped out of his skin when he heard that familiar yet unexpected voice of the Master of Whispers.

"Varys," Tyrion replied when he settled back in his seat. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"I wouldn't be a spymaster if I didn't know how to sneak about undetected," the bald perfumed man responded back to his friend as he sat in the other empty seat on the opposite side.

"How have you been my Lord?"

Tyrion chuckled into his goblet before taking a large sip of the dark red wine.

"How have I been?" Tyrion repeated the question. "Two weeks ago, I found out my nephew, a young man I considered my best friend, was killed by violent savages in a land he had no business being in because of his mother. Today, we honored him with a funeral but we don't have his fucking body so Silas couldn't even be properly laid to rest, something he rightly deserves. So, you ask how I am doing? Well…I am doing just fine Varys, thank you for asking."

Tyrion emptied the remnants of his cup into his mouth. The wine was still swishing in his mouth when he reached for the pitcher to fill his empty goblet.

"Apologies, that wasn't the right thing to say," Varys responded truthfully. He did not mean to upset his friend, especially in his time of grieving.

"The ceremony was lovely," the eunuch commented, trying to break the silence between the two. "Prince Silas would have loved it if he saw it."

"Except that he wasn't here," Tyrion sighed in annoyance. "We couldn't even lay his body to rest. Now, unless you have something important to tell me, you can leave me to my solitude, if you don't mind."

Tyrion, even in his half-drunken state, knew he sounded rude and felt bad for it. He didn't want to drive away one of the few friends he has.

"I'm sorry Varys," Tyrion apologized to his friend. "I just…these past few days have hard."

"I understand," the Master of Whispers accepted the apology. "I can only imagine the pain you must feel, the resentment you have towards your sister for allowing Silas to travel to Essos."

"Allow?" Tyrion scoffed. He set his cup of wine down on the table a little more forceful than he meant to.

"My sister, despite her dislike for Silas, wouldn't 'allow' him to leave the city, especially after what he did. Silas could amass a loyal army for himself if he truly wanted. To her and Joffrey, Silas was too dangerous to be set free."

"It sounds to me you are implying something," Varys stated curiously as he watched his friend.

"Imply something?" Tyrion tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "Imply what exactly?"

Varys watched Tyrion closely as the shorter man lazily brought his cup closer to the pitcher and emptied the remnants, which wasn't enough for him, by the annoyed sigh he exhaled and placed the pitcher back onto the table.

"I know that you have been looking into it, Silas' death."

Tyrion's eyes snapped back onto his friend. It was true, he had been searching into his nephew's untimely death. He had Bronn visit the docks and the Inn's and taverns nearby and asked around for any information from any Volantene sailor or pirate regarding the Bloodthorn Mercenaries and the attack in the Dothraki Sea. To his surprise, no one was able to tell him anything. No one knew the name of the leader's or captains or even recognized the Mercenary group themselves. Every mercenary group is known by someone. How else would they receive jobs? Yet, no one, not even those from Volantis, the company's supposed home of origin, had ever heard of the Bloodthorn. It is as if it doesn't exist.

"I may have asked around here and there," Tyrion muttered as he swirled the wine in his goblet.

"I know you won't stop until you find answers." Tyrion shrugged his shoulders at Varys' words. "Yet what you find could get you killed."

Tyrion eyed his friend closely. Varys' expression wasn't one of his usual sardonic appearances but of actual worry for him, something that gradually sobered Tyrion up from the wine. He could tell Varys was hinting something to him.

"So, there is something suspicious about Silas' death then," Tyrion stated confidently.

Varys did not need to respond with words, the expression on his face said it all.

Tyrion leaned himself closer to Varys, his eyes glared intently at the bald man. 

"If you have any information on Silas, tell me now."

Varys had never seen Tyrion like this. That glare he gave him, sent a shiver that ran down his spine. He should have known that Tyrion would act like this, Silas was his favorite nephew.

Varys did not want to tell Tyrion the truth, not yet at least. There was a plan in motion and Silas being dead to his family was a part of it. If news of Silas' still living were to be revealed, not only would his plan be foiled but he would surely be executed for lying and treason. A pact was made to never speak of the punishment ordered on Silas under the penalty of death.

However, Tyrion wasn't the type to sell anyone out, especially to his father and sister about Silas. In fact, now that Varys thinks about it, Tyrion would likely be more than happy to help takedown Tywin Cersei and Joffrey from power once it is revealed what really happened to Silas. Varys just hoped that in revealing the truth to Tyrion if the man could keep an even-tempered mind around his family. Tyrion loved Silas dearly and to find out that he was sold into slavery to be condemned to die would certainly enrage the man before him.

Varys couldn't take that chance, not yet. However, he knew that Tyrion was a persistent one and won't stop until he has answers. The least he could do is give the man something, something to assure his mind on his nephew and keep him from investigating any further on the matter.

“I do have information regarding Silas, information that could get me killed should your sister find out I spoke of the matter."

Tyrion sat upright in his seat, his eyes alert as he glared at the Master of Whispers.

"You have to promise that if I tell you this, you cannot look into your nephew's death any further. It stops now."

"I won't say anything, especially to Cersei," Tyrion assured his friend. "Whatever you say, will not be repeated. Now, tell me what you know."

Varys sighed hesitantly before speaking again.

"Silas…is still very much alive."

  
  


**Silas Baratheon**

**Astapor**

Silas eyed his reflection closely in the mirror as he examined the set of armor he wore. Queen Daenerys offered him some gold to purchase some clothing armor and weapons since he had none to call his own. He initially declined the offer but the Young Queen wouldn't have it and tossed the sizable pouch of gold to Ser Jorah and ordered the Knight to oversee Silas' shopping in the Plaza. She apparently still did not fully trust the new addition to her army. Understandable, it hasn't been a day since he was set free since he swore his oath of fealty to her and that she had spent her whole life running away from the assassins. Her brother most likely told her stories of how her family was destroyed by Lannister's and the Baratheon's. With Silas being half Lannister and half Baratheon, he wouldn't doubt it would take a while to get into her good graces if she ever decided to let him.

The armor he chose to go with fit well on him, it certainly felt good to wear. It was a simple set of brown leather armor plated with a thin layer of steel on the shoulder pauldrons with a matching pair of bracers that covered up to his elbows. It wasn't flashy, he didn't care for flash. All he cared for is that the armor kept him well protected.

He liked fighting with two swords and decided he would do so and purchased a pair of dual wielding swords. It's what he was taught when enslaved and now feels more natural than any other style of fighting.

Turning around, Silas faced Ser Jorah standing behind him, glaring sternly at him as usual.

"What do you think?" Silas asked the gruff knight of Bear Island. Ser Jorah only shrugged his shoulders.

The Knight barely spoke a few words to Silas but his glaring eyes spoke for him. Ser Jorah clearly didn't like him and wasn't afraid to show it. In fact, Silas was fairly certain that if the Queen commanded it, the Knight would execute him without question.

"As long as it protects you, then it should be fine."

Silas and Ser Jorah both turned their gaze to the shop entrance to find Ser Barristan making his way towards them, carrying a long and fairly wide wrapped package underneath his right arm. "Even so, it looks good on you."

"Thank you Ser Barristan," Silas grinned at his former mentor. "Then this armor will do just fine."

With his mind decided on the armor he was wearing, Silas walked to the merchant and paid for the new garb and weapons before walking out of the store.

With this being the last stop, the three men made their way back to the ship in the harbor of Slavers Bay.

The cool sea air was welcoming after spending a long day in the sweltering heat that seemed to swirl within Astapor's walls.

Once the men stepped onto the ship’s deck, they finally parted ways, much to Silas' relief. He couldn't stand being glared at by Ser Jorah any longer, especially with how ironic the situation is. He knew about Ser Jorah working for Lord Varys to spy on Daenerys to gain his pardon, that is until the messages suddenly stopped coming. From what it looks like however, it seems the Knight has not informed the Queen about his secret deal or else this man might not be here.

Silas and Ser Barristan walked down the steps to go below deck where their own cabins waited for them.

Silas opened the door to his cabin only to be surprised by a tub filled with steaming warm water and was even more surprised to see one of the Queen's own handmaidens standing up from the wooden chair placed beside the wall of the small room.

Doreah was her name if memory served. This handmaiden clearly wasn't Dothraki, not like the other handmaiden, Irri. Doreah had long golden blonde hair and fair skin that contrasted from the naturally tanned skin and black hair of the Dothraki race.

"Can I help you? Silas asked the unexpected yet attractive guest.

Doreah gave him a sweet coy smile from her pink full lips as she watched him with her soft ocean blue eyes.

"Her Grace has requested for you to take a bath," The handmaiden responded to his question. "So that you will be more presentable when you sit with her for evening supper. She expects your presence within the hour."

"Oh." Silas was surprised by the answer he got. The Mother of Dragons herself wanted him to join her for a meal, that she was willing to break bread with a man who should be considered her enemy.

"Well, tell her Grace that I am very honored and grateful for the gesture and I will join her for supper once I am finished looking more…presentable."

"Oh, you misunderstand." Doreah stepped closer toward the confused man. "I am to stay and help you."

Before he could respond, Doreah had already begun to slip the straps of her dress from her shoulders one at a time.

For a moment, Silas remained still and mesmerized by the sight unfolding before him. It has been a while since he last saw the naked beauty of a woman, especially one that was not ordered to undress by the Masters.

That's what managed to bring him out of his momentary daze, the still very fresh memories of his former Master and the things he ordered Silas to do.

Quickly, Silas stepped towards her lifted the dress back up before any more of her tight petite form could be revealed to him, shocking the young handmaiden at his sudden action toward her.

"I appreciate the gesture," Silas kindly yet hurriedly told her as he ushered her to the door while she held the top half of her dress. "But I can bathe myself just fine."

The handmaiden opened her mouth to protest but Silas closed the door before a word could be uttered.

Silas immediately felt bad for what he did. The way she looked back at him made him feel like he was rude to her when he denied her offer and practically slammed the door on her. He told himself to be sure to apologize the next time he saw her.

Turning away from the door, Silas walked over to the warm inviting bath waiting for him.

To be honest, Silas was more excited about this bath than he should have been. Could anyone blame him though? It has been two years since he last had a proper bath.

Shedding the armor he recently purchased, he placed it all in the corner of the room and removed the undergarments until he was completely naked.

Silas stepped into the warm water and carefully relaxed into the tub, letting his body adjust to the warm temperature before he began cleaning his body with the selection on soaps placed out for him.

Fifteen minutes of hard scrubbing in the tub, Silas stepped out cleaner and smelling better than he has in a long time. Once dried, he walked across the room toward his bed where he laid out an outfit to wear. He grabbed the black leather trousers and laced them once he stopped at his waist and slipped on the pair of dark brown leather boots he purchased.

Before he dressed into his blue cotton shirt and brown leather doublet, Silas walked across the room to the table that carried a small square mirror and a small pouch with a few grooming supplies he got from the market.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Silas saw that his hair and beard have grown rather long and too unruly for decency.

"I think it's time for a new look," he muttered to himself and opened the bag and sifted through the contents until he found what he needed.

**Daenerys Targaryen**

The young Queen lightly tapped her slender fingers on the wooden tabletop as she waited for the last guest to arrive.

Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan had already taken their seats across from each other while the handmaidens as well as Daenerys new addition Missandei, stood patiently beside the wall, ready to be called upon for any assistance.

Dany looked to the door that remained closed to the outside of the room, waiting for the last guest to arrive and dine with them. Already twenty minutes had passed since the food was readied to be served but Daenerys chose to wait for the entire group to be present before being served.

“You did tell him when we were having supper, didn’t you Doreah?” Dany asked her handmaiden.

Doreah gave her a quick nod and assured her that she told Silas when to arrive.

The door to the Queens cabin creaked open and Dany's violet gaze turned to the door to see the guest entering the room.

For a brief moment, she didn't recognize Silas.

_ That bath did more than clean him, _ the Young Queen thought to herself as she examined the young man's new cleaner look more closely.

His long unruly black hair was cut to a shoulder-length rather and no longer looked flat and greasy as it had been before. He even styled it by pulling the top half of his black wavy hair into a loose-fitting ponytail while the bottom half remained free. A few strands escaped the leather band he used to tie back his hair and rested just below his dark brows.

The thick beard he sported had been cut to a close shave, revealing his young features on his face. He was certainly handsome, Dany couldn't deny that. 

"Your Grace," Silas greeted the young Queen with a bow.

Daenerys only responded with an arched eyebrow and an unamused look.

"You're late."

"Apologies your Grace. It took a bit longer than expected to get cleaned up."

"Which is why I asked Doreah to stay and help you."

Silas' eyes flitted to Doreah standing off to the side. The young handmaiden looked down on the wooden floor as if she was guilty of something.

"For which I appreciated but not necessary," Silas replied with a kind smile aimed at the handmaiden. Doreah looked up and gave him a small grin in return. "I know it's been a while since I had a proper bath that didn't consist of a bucket of water and a rag but I still remember how to bathe myself."

Silas could have sworn he saw the Queen's lips twitch a smidge. However, any notion that she was amused had gone away and her stern demeanor toward Silas returned. Once she motioned for Silas to take a seat, he walked over to the table and took the seat directly across the Queen.

The handmaidens took this as a sign to begin serving and carried platters of food for everyone, who all took a bit of everything to eat.

Doreah leaned in towards Silas. Her gorgeous blue eyes rested on his emerald gaze as she offered him some wine, which he accepted and held out his goblet for her to fill.

"So tell me about yourself, Silas."

Silas turned his eyes away from the handmaiden to the Queen sitting across from him.

"I'm afraid there isn't much to tell your Grace," Silas answered her earnestly as he cut into the cooked meat on his plate.

"Well, aren't you a modest Prince," Dany teased Silas. "Most men want to boast about themselves, especially the highborn ones. Yet you do not."

Silas gave her a small smile after he swallowed the food in his mouth. "I guess I'm not like most men."

"That's what all men say," Dany responded back with a smirk. "But, given that I don't know much about you except what Ser Barristan has told me, you can see that I should know more about the man that is supposed to be an enemy that I must trust."

The room remained silent as Dany watched the young man and waited for an answer.

Finally, he gave her a nod in acceptance, not that he would deny her order.

"Then, I'll tell you what you want to know."

Dany was surprised by his answer. She would have thought that he wouldn't be so willing to answer her questions for fear of her finding out anything he was a part of, such as her assassination attempts.

The young Queen nodded before she asked her first question.

"How do I know you won't try to take the Iron Throne?"

"Straight to the point then," Silas chuckled and put down the silverware in his hands to show he has her full attention. He gazed at her with his soft emerald eyes.

As much as she tried to remain stern toward Silas, she couldn't seem to keep the expression when looking into his eyes.

"To put it simply, I have no reason to take the Iron Throne. I don't want it and I never did."

"But why?" She asked him curiously. "You said it yourself as did Ser Barristan, the Lords of Westeros will support you, fight for you if you asked. How do I know when we land in Westeros you won't rally the Lords for your support instead of mine?" 

Silas leaned back into his chair, seeming to contemplate what he was going to say.

"You want the truth?” he asked her softly, receiving a small nod from the young Queen in return. “The truth is…being King scared me. The Iron Throne scared me. It still does. It's corrupted so many Kings through the centuries bringing out the worst in them. I watched my own father become a shell of the man he used to be. I have been afraid that if my father, once a famed warrior of renowned strength, could be so easily changed by the power then I wouldn’t stand a chance myself from becoming something that I don’t want to be. That’s why I don’t want to be King.”  

Dany was astounded by the answer he gave her, even more so when she realized he was telling her the truth, as far as she could tell. However, that still didn't convince her to trust him. That still required time.

"As for gaining the Support of the Lords of Westeros for me, I promised you that I would rally them to your cause and that's what I'm going to do. I never go back on my word."

Silas picked up the goblet of wine and took a sip of the sweet red.

"Is it so hard to believe that there is someone who doesn't want power, who doesn't want to rule all others?" Silas sighed.

"It is," Ser Jorah chimed in unexpectedly from Silas’ left. Everyone turned toward the gruff Knight. "Forgive me but someone who has had power would want it back, I'm sure."

"I never had power, Ser Jorah," Silas responded back rather sharply to the exiled Knight. "My title as Prince was just a title, nothing more."

"Oh? Did you not sit on the small council?" Ser Jorah pointed out to him and to the rest of the room, especially to Dany.

"Were you not part of the discussion about Queen Daenerys during the meetings? Were you not one of the small council members who agreed to send out assassins to kill her all her life?"

Dany's Violet eyes turned back to cold hard gaze as she glared at Silas. She remembered Ser Barristan mentioning that Silas took his father's place on the small council. Silas was part of the planning to assassinate her and her brother.

Dany could tell by the expression on Silas’ face that he felt guilty but that didn't excuse him for what he had done. If she didn't require his help to rally the Lords of Westeros to her cause, he would have dismissed, maybe even executed.

"Your Grace—" Ser Barristan began only to be silenced by Dany's raised hand.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Dany asked Silas. Her tone was cold as her stern glare lingered on the young man, waiting for his response.  _ He better have a good explanation, he's already walking on thin ice. _

"Yes, I was on the small council in my father's stead," Silas admitted to Dany. There was no point in lying to her, not that he would. He looked up from the table and locked his eyes onto the young Queen's. "I wanted to make sure that the small council was doing what was good for the people."

“And my death was good for the people?” Dany snapped back at him.

"About the attempts on your life," Silas began again after a brief pause. "No one in the small council had that authority but my father. He was the only one that felt threatened by your existence and repeatedly ordered for the assassins."

"Felt threatened?" Dany repeated the words.

Silas nodded. "Personally, I think it was more about his ego."

"So the rest of the small council didn't feel threatened about me or my brother still being alive?"

Silas shook his head in response. "No, as far as we could tell, you two were no threat. You had no support, no army, definitely no dragons. As long as you stayed on the other side of the Narrow Sea we felt that you were no threat to us."

Silas leaned forward in his seat. "However, when my father began making plans to send assassins after you, I tried to persuade him to leave you and your brother alone. I swear. I never…ever…agreed to any of the orders."

Ser Jorah only scoffed at Silas' response. "I find that highly unlikely and with no proof, it's just your word we are supposed to believe." 

"Then what about you Ser Jorah?" Silas snapped at the Knight. "I wonder, does her Grace know exactly how you came to be here?"

Dany could see her bear Knight shifting in his chair, looking positively uncomfortable.

"Watch yourself boy," Ser Jorah warned Silas. "I'm not the one being questioned, you are."

"And you're not the one questioning me, her Grace is," Silas retorted back, his eyes glared at the exiled Knight as Ser Jorah glared back in a moment of tense silence between the two.

"Your Grace," Silas finally said and turned to Dany. "I swear to you I had no part in arranging for any of those assassins sent after you. Believe me, I tried to stop my father to the point where we both ended up yelling at each other. But when his mind was set to purpose, there was no stopping him."

"But if you believe I am a threat to you, then strike me down and end your doubts."

Dany could hear the sincerity in his voice and his expression gave her nothing but the truth. Silas meant what he said to her. Hopefully, with time, she will be able to trust him more in the near future.

"That won't be necessary Silas, I do appreciate what you did for me," Dany answered him back. "I do apologize for all the doubt, I have been betrayed too many times by people that I have trusted before and I can't afford to blindly trust people now."

Silas briefly glanced at Ser Jorah who looked like he wanted to be anywhere than here after hearing what the young Queen said.

"That's fine, your Grace. I understand it will take time to gain your trust," Silas told the Queen when he turned his gaze back to her. "And I will be sure to do my best to earn that trust and prove my loyalty."

Dany nodded in acceptance. She admired his determination to prove himself to her.

The rest of the meal continued on smoothly without any more awkward silences, though Ser Jorah remained quiet himself and kept his not so subtle glares at Silas as they continued to eat.

"What were you going to do if you hadn't tried to take the Iron Throne?" Dany asked him. She was indeed curious about what a Prince would have done if he did not want to rule as King.

Dany took a sip of her wine and relaxed back into her seat as she waited for Silas' response.

"Well," Silas began after swallowing the last of his meal and took a sip of his own wine. "I had always wanted to travel to Essos. I wanted to visit the great cities and see all the wonders this side of the world had to offer."

"Well, you sort of got your wish there," Dany sniggered into her cup. Silas smiled and chuckled himself.

"So, a former Prince was going to travel through Essos all by himself?" She asked him, sounding skeptical that someone as highborn as Silas would just go off alone to a dangerous foreign land.

"No, your Grace," Silas shook his head. "I was actually going to take my brother with me."

That was a surprise for the young Queen to hear. "I'm assuming you don't mean your brother Joffrey."

"No, your Grace. Nor do I mean Tommen either. My mother would have never let either of them leave her sight."

Dany was confused by what Silas meant. She could have sworn he only had two brothers."

"Surely Ser Barristan or Ser Jorah have mentioned my father's other children?"

Dany shook her head. She didn't know much about the Usurper beside what Viserys had told her, which was that the man was a bloodthirsty killer that murdered their noble brother. Anything beyond that seemed unimportant to her brother to mention or he just didn't know any more than that.

"Well, it's no secret that my father…well, he…he had a strong sexual appetite and he enjoyed the company of…questionable women," Silas began explaining. "The man practically bankrupted the realm on whore's and wine."

"As you can imagine, sleeping with so many women, some of them ended up bearing his children. The way that man was, I'm pretty sure I have a sibling in every kingdom of Westeros."

"Have you met any of them?" Dany asked him. She was wanted to know what he thought these baseborn siblings, these walking talking reminders of his father's infidelity against his mother. Most pure born children wouldn't accept their baseborn siblings, yet from the way Silas looked when she mentioned them, he didn't seem to hold any grudge against them.

"I have only met a few," Silas answered her. "Just the ones my father recognized, like my sister Mya, she's the eldest out of me and my other siblings. She lives in the Vale. Then there's Edric, he's one of the younger ones. He lives in Storms End. I, unfortunately, haven't had the chance to meet any of my other siblings, mostly my mother's doing, she didn't want me or any of her children to know them. But that didn't stop me from trying to know them."

"Then, I found another one of my siblings living in Kings Landing."

Dany listened carefully to what Silas' story.

"When I went to get my armor, I found out chest plate had been cracked somehow, though I don't remember receiving such damage the last time I wore it."

Silas smiled as he recalled the memory.

"When my father's hand, Lord Jon Arryn, found out about my ruined armor, he told me to take the armor to a certain blacksmith that worked atop the street of Steel."

"It appears that he was subtlety trying to lead you to your brother," Dany told him, laying her own assumption.

"That's exactly what he was doing." Silas gave her a small smile. "Though, he didn't have to ruin my armor to do it. That fix was expensive." 

"When I saw him, my brother, for the first time, I was honestly taken aback by his resemblance to me and to my father. Edric and Mya had my father's hair and eye color but that's as far as the resemblance went but Gendry, he looked like the spitting image of my father in these old paintings of him as a young man hanging on the walls in Storms End."

"Did you tell him, your brother, that you were related?" Dany inquired when Silas took a moment to down the remaining wine in his goblet. Dany lifted the pitcher of wine from the table and offered him some more but Silas politely declined.

"No," Silas answered her back with a shake of his head. "I figured he was better off who his father is. It's much safer if he didn't know."

"I befriended him though," Silas continued with his story. "I would sneak out of the Red Keep and make my way to the shop he worked at and spend a few hours talking with him, getting to know him better. It was nice, having a brother closer to my age to talk to. Everyone in the Red Keep was either too young or too old for me."

"That must have been nice." Dany could relate with Silas on that. All her life she wished she had someone, a sister or a close friend that she could talk to, confide secrets to. Yet all she got was a cruel brother who didn't care about what she had to say.

"It was," Silas smiled. “We talked about many things, our favorite Knights and other warriors to our favorite types of weapons and fighting styles we like and even talked about girls that caught our fancy. Just…just things men…friends talk about.”

Just as quickly as that smile came, it disappeared to a frown once Silas recalled his memories.

"The days following my father's 'hunting accident', I made plans to leave Westeros for good. To leave behind my title and inheritance to Casterly Rock and sail for Essos and begin a new life there and make a name for myself and I was going to take my brother with me, so he could shed that baseborn name of his and make his own name as well. He's a talented blacksmith and an equally good fighter, Gendry could make good coin with either talent here on this side of the world."

"So, you were going to take your Bastard brother…Gendry…with you across the Narrow Sea?" Dany noticed the slight glare Silas gave her when she called his brother a bastard. She did feel bad for using that term and made sure to remind herself not to use it again.

"Aye, I knew he wasn't going to be safe once my father was gone and Joffrey took the crown. My mother hated my father's bastards. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time she had my father’s bastards murdered,” Silas told her. He remembered hearing of a pair of twins, sired by his father and a serving girl when he and the royal family went to the tourney at Casterly Rock. The twins were only babes when Cersei had them killed and sold their mother to a slaver. A crime his mother had no problem doing again to get rid of him.

“I had a plan with Lord Varys to pay off the blacksmith my brother worked for into giving him to the Nights watch so he could travel with them out of the city without getting harassed by the guards and I would meet up with them once they were out of the Crownlands and sail to Essos and out of harm's way."

It amazed Dany how far Silas was willing to go to protect a sibling, one that he just met. His loyalty was something she was beginning to admire.

"Were you going to tell him then? That you two are brothers?"

Silas nodded his head. "Aye, I was going to tell him eventually and hoped he would forgive me for not telling him sooner and hoped that he would still like to come with me to Essos to start a new life."

"But that didn't happen," Dany stated quietly, seeing the sullen look Silas tried to hide.

"No. I was imprisoned with Lord Stark and then my mother sold me into slavery. But while I was in the Black cells, Varys paid a few visits and told me Gendry was safely escorted out of the city with the Nights watchman, he told me it was probably safer for my brother if he took the black. I didn't want that life for him but Varys was right, without me out there, Gendry had no other protection and no money to sail out of Westeros. I know it's not the life he deserves but at least he is safer at the Wall than in Kings Landing."

"You did all you could do to protect him," Dany assured Silas. "I'm sure that is more than anyone else has ever done for him."

"I suppose you're right," Silas gave the young Queen a quick half smile.

"It's getting late," Dany informed her dinner guests. "We should all retire for the night. We have an early start in the morning."

The three men at her table all stood up from their seats and one by one bowed to her before walking out of the room until all who were left was Dany and her Handmaidens.

"Ser Jorah, a moment please?" Dany asked her bear Knight.

The gruff Knight nodded and stepped back into the room and closed the door behind them for the privacy Dany wanted and patiently waited for what she had to say.

"Do you think it was wise to allow Silas to join us?" Dany asked her Knight. Ser Jorah has always been honest with her and his advice was always helpful.

"You already know what I think, Khaleesi," he replied back. "My thoughts on the boy have not changed. From what I can tell, he is ambitious and charismatic like a Lannister with strength like a Baratheon."

Dany let out a sigh. She knew where Ser Jorah was going with this. However, it surprised her with what he said next.

"But, that charisma and ambition are what the people like about Silas and what will bring the Lords of Westeros to your cause and his strength and ferocity in battle are what we need when we go to war."

The exiled Knight paused a moment, contemplating what he would say next.

"I don't trust the lad, not because of his familial ties. Because of what his mother and brother did to him, I'm certain he wants them dethroned more than we do. I don't trust him because the people, the Lords of Westeros might decide to rally to Silas than to you. To the citizens of Westeros, Silas Baratheon has the strongest claim to the throne."

"Silas doesn't want the throne," Dany interjected. "He said so himself."

"Aye he did," the Knight said to the Queen. "He also admitted to attempting to overthrow his own brother and take the crown when one Lord told him he had the better claim."

"He tried to overthrow a vile boy king, from what we've been told because he thought he could stop the war that is now destroying the Seven Kingdoms."

Dany gave an annoyed sigh and leaned back into the cushioned seat as she pressed her fingers between her eyes on the bridge of her small nose. 

This…young man, this Silas Baratheon, was a complicated person to figure out when he resided in a grey area. He tried to overthrow his brother and become King but only did it to stop the war from escalating. Right now, while in Essos, he is harmless to her plan to take the Iron Throne, however, it's when they get back to Westeros and when she needs Silas to rally the Lords to her cause that is making her apprehensive of the young man. If one Lord was able to coax him to take the throne from his own brother, his own flesh and blood, what would he do if all the Lords he rallied for her instead turned and supported his claim? Could he really deny a whole Kingdom supporting his claim?

When Missandei crossed over to the table to collect the used plates and silverware, Dany placed a hand on her newest handmaidens arm, causing Missandei to stop what she is doing to give her full attention.

“Missandei, a moment please?" Dany asked.

The young Handmaiden nodded and stepped back from the table and waited patiently for what she had to say.

"You and Silas were owned by the same master. You must know him well?" Dany inquired from her new Handmaiden.  “What can you tell me of him?”

“Not much, I’m afraid Your Grace,” Missandei admitted to Dany. “Silas was kept below Master Kraznys’ palace with the other fighters while I was kept within the palace itself. The two of us have rarely talked to each other much less been in each other’s presence. However, I have heard from the other servants mention him on a few occasions. They said he is polite but very quiet and tends to keep to himself. He didn’t have many friends but the few he did were very loyal to him and he in return.”

Missandei paused a moment, seemingly reluctant 

Dany thanked Missandei for her information on the newest recruit and allowed her to continue cleaning the table with Irri and Doreah. 

"Silas appears to be loyal, it's something he values greatly," The young Queen stated her observation on the banished former Prince. "For now, that is all we can depend on from him that he won't go behind my back, or worse."

She looked up at the Knight and saw the uncertainty in his eyes. She couldn't blame him. It is a long shot to trust a man born both Lannister and Baratheon but Silas has an important role to play to get her the Iron Throne. It's unlikely that she will meet another person as well known and liked from Westeros here on the other side of the Narrow Sea.

"Keep an eye on him Ser Jorah," Dany ordered her Knight. "Make sure he isn't doing anything that could betray our cause."

Ser Jorah nodded and accepted the task.

"What should I do with him if I were to find out he committed treason, Khaleesi?"

"If he does, then I want him brought to me to receive his sentence," Dany calmy answered the Knights question. "That will be all Ser Jorah, thank you for your council."

Ser Jorah bowed to his Queen and turned on his heel and exited the room. Once the door closed behind the Knight, Dany stared back at the door, the feeling of uncertainty weighed heavily on her now.

"I hope I'm not making a mistake," the Targaryen Queen muttered to herself. 

**Silas Baratheon**

Silas looked out at that dark expanse of endless ocean as he sat on top of the stacked crates pushed up against the railing on the deck of the ship.

No, he much preferred the wide open space of the deck. Silas enjoyed the cool salty sea air that breezed across the deck and caressed his face.

He enjoyed the cool salty sea air that danced around him, always has since he was a young Prince living in the Red Keep. Sometimes, he would even sleep out on the balcony because his room just felt suffocating to sleep in most nights.

He wasn't tired, not yet and he didn't feel like staying cooped up in his small cabin. It reminded him too much of the cell he lived in for the past two years. Instead, he decided to work on his new swords. While new to him, they had been used for quite a few years before finding themselves on display to be sold.

The handles weren’t in bad shape, though the leather wrappings for the grip felt a little too worn and would need to be replaced when he finds the supplies. 

Silas examined the edges and noticed they were dull and needed a session with a whetstone. Luckily, that was something he could do right now since Ser Barristan had lent him his own. 

Taking one of his swords and placed it on his lap, Silas placed the whetstone on the sword's edge and slid the sharpener along the blade’s length.

The scuffle of feet on the wooden floor startled the young man from his work and snapped his gaze away from the ocean toward the intruder.

To his surprise, it was one of Daenerys' handmaidens, Doreah to be exact, much to his luck. He still felt he needed to apologize to her after the way he acted toward her earlier.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Doreah pardoned herself. "I didn't realize anyone else was out here this late."

"It's fine," Silas assured her with that half-smile of his as he relaxed back into his sitting spot atop the crates. "I wasn't too tired and also wasn't feeling too keen on being cooped up in my cabin all night, so I thought I'd stay out here and get some fresh air."

"I feel the same way." Doreah walked to the edge of the ship and leaned her tight lithe form forward where she crossed her arms relaxed on the railing. Silas was a little ashamed to have glanced at her perfect backside. He could have sworn she was sticking it out more than necessary as she continued to lean on the wooden railing. "The Queen has gone to sleep for the night so I am free for the rest of the evening."

Doreah's sultry blue eyes leered suggestively at the young man.

Silas chuckled lightly at what the handmaiden was implying. He couldn't deny that she was indeed very stunning, as stunning as Daenerys, but it wouldn't be wise to sleep with one of the Queen's handmaidens, especially when he was walking on a very thin line with Daenerys herself. It wouldn't be wise to anger the Mother of Dragons. 

"I actually wanted to apologize to you," the former Prince stated to the handmaiden. "About earlier when I…sent you out of my room. That was very rude of me."

"It's alright," Doreah assured him with her beautiful smile. "I did sort of ambush you. It should be me who should ask for forgiveness." 

Doreah straightened up from the railing and sauntered closer to the young man. Her fingers glided along the railing and moved on to the crates that Silas was sitting on.

"But, I'm not ambushing you now am I?" Doreah smirked at Silas. For a moment Silas was taken aback by her rather forward attitude.

Doreah moved in closer, attempting to close the gap between herself and Silas. The young man could feel his breath suddenly hitch in his chest and his body tensed at the close proximity of the young woman's body gradually closing in on him.

Silas could feel his body react to her touch as her soft fingers caressed his torso and up to his broad chest where she rested her hand.

Silas closed his eyes and took deep breaths to calm himself. This feeling within him, it wasn't a good one as it brought back memories, memories that he wanted to forget.

He could see them, in his mind, Silas could see flashes of people, the noblemen and women of Astapor crowding around him in a circle, watching him as he was ordered to do sexual things with one of Kraznys' female house slaves. How the drunk disgusting  Noble men and women watched him so closely, with such intensity as he was forced to fuck the woman while the onlookers got off on the sight, he never felt so degraded in his life than when he was forced to do that.

Silas' body began to tremble with anger as he relived those horrible memories. Taking a few deep breaths, Silas managed to calm himself and politely took Doreah's hand in his own and gently moved it back toward her.

The young handmaiden looked up at him, confused at his decline of her offer.

"I'm sorry," Silas softly apologized with a small heartfelt smile. "Your offer is very tempting but…that is something that I am not interested in right now."

Doreah didn't say anything to him but by the way she stared at him, Silas could tell that this didn't often happen to her.

Her expression quickly changed with her sultry smile that returned on her luscious pink lips.

"Well, you are certainly one of a kind Silas Baratheon," the beautiful handmaiden responded to him, putting an alluring emphasis when saying his name.

"It's getting late. I should head back to my room."

Doreah gave him one last smile and a quick wink before waving to him as she turned around.

"Goodnight good Ser."

"Goodnight my Lady," Silas grinned back at her and watched as she walked across the deck. Again, he had to scold himself when his gaze lingered on her curvaceous hips that swayed from side to side with each step she took.

When Doreah made it halfway across the deck, the door that led down below opened and Ser Barristan stepped through the doorway.

"Ser Barristan," Doreah greeted the old Knight kindly with a nod.

"My Lady," Ser Barristan responded back with a quick bow of his balding head. He stepped to the side and allowed the young woman to walk through the doorway and down the steps that led to the cabins.

The old Knight walked over to where Silas resumed his sitting and greeted him with a pat on his shoulder.

"Making friends with the Queen's handmaidens, I see," Ser Barristan commented jokingly.

Silas nervously chuckled and shifted a bit in his seat before relaxing back into his spot. Hopefully, no one else saw the conversation between himself and Doreah, at least the bit where she came on to him. He didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea and report him to Daenerys.

"We are just admiring the ambiance, that's all," Silas informed his former mentor.

"Of course," Ser Barristan responded back with a sly grin on his amused face. "It is a lovely evening. One would say…perfect for couples."

Silas rolled his eyes and sighed as the former commander of the Kingsguard chuckled at the younger man's response.

"I'm only joking lad." Ser Barristan gave Silas a pat on the shoulder.

"So what are you doing out here?" Silas asked the older man, hoping to change the subject.

"I was looking for you actually. I have a gift for you."

Silas sat up and turned himself toward Ser Barristan, giving him his full attention.

The young man was too preoccupied with his own thoughts he didn't realize that the knight had been holding something behind his back until the older man moved his hands from behind his back and held out the wrapped package from earlier.

Silas took it and unwrapped the gift. His face lit up when he revealed what it was.

"A lute!" he exclaimed in excitement as he held up the beautifully crafted stringed instrument. Silas plucked at a few strings to test it out. It needed a little tuning but other than that it sounded beautiful.

"I remember how much you enjoyed playing the lute when you were younger," Ser Barristan stated as he watched Silas tune a few of the strings. "Remember when you used to ride your horse around Kings Landing and play your lute for the people? You used to love stopping at the orphanage and play for the children."

"That was a lot of fun," Silas smiled as he remembered those good times. "You were the one to buy me that lute as well."

"Aye, I was," the Knight responded. "When you got hurt and were confined to your room, you seemed so bored. I thought you could use a bit of a challenge while you were recovering."

"And what a challenge it was," Silas chortled. "Do you remember how bad I was when I first started playing?"

Ser Barristan let out a hearty chuckle. "I do and like any challenge, you managed to overcome it."

Silas was touched by Ser Barristan's compliments and even more so by the gift received from him. His father never appreciated the art of music and often criticized him for enjoying playing the instrument by saying real men don’t make music. Ser Barristan, however, supported him wholeheartedly. Even his uncle Tyrion supported his love of music. Tyrion told him once that woman loved men that could play the lute because it made them really good with their fingers to do more pleasurable things. Silas just settled with entertaining the audience with his hard-earned talent by playing them a song. 

"Thank you Ser Barristan," Silas beamed at the older Knight. "This is a great gift."

Silas got up from his spot on the crates and pulled Ser Barristan into a one-armed hug that the Knight reciprocated by patting him on the back.

"Now we'll have music to enjoy while we travel on those long marches," Ser Barristan suggested as the two broke from the embrace.

"I better get some sleep, we got an early start tomorrow. You should too. It wouldn't be wise to be late on your first official day on the job."

Silas nodded his head and said, "Yeah, I'll head to my cabin in a little bit."

The older Knight patted Silas' back one last time before parting and Silas sat back down on the crates and returned his attention back onto the instrument on his lap and held it in playing position and strummed the strings until a melody of a song began to form.

Unknown to Silas, Ser Barristan had stopped at the doorway and listened to the music being played with a smile on his face.

Not even two years of slavery could take away Silas' musical talent.

**The next day.**

_ Even in the early morning, the sun is still unbearably hot _ , Silas thought to himself as he wiped the beads of sweat rolling down his neck. He walked side by side with Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah as he and the rest of Queen Daenerys' entourage walked to the city's gates.

He didn't want to return to Astapor, even if it was just for a few hours. The slave city brought up nothing but bad feelings and memories for him. But the Queen wanted her entire council with her, which included Silas to tag along.

He couldn't believe that she was going to trade one of her dragons for eight thousand unsullied. Silas didn't believe it when Ser Barristan told him earlier that morning when they watched the biggest of the three dragons being carted out from the Queen's cabin. The two of them could hear Drogon's ethereal screeches from inside his cage while the Queen's Dothraki guard escorted the creature to the deck. No army is worth a dragon.

Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah urged their Queen one last time to reconsider her plan to trade her dragon for the Unsullied but she remained adamant to stick with her plan.

Now here they are, marching up to the city's gates from the harbor as they headed to the Plaza of Pride where all eight thousand Unsullied stood at attention, still as statues even underneath the blazing sun while the Masters of Astapor, including Kraznys Mo Nakloz, sat in shaded comfort underneath the large canopy that kept the suns angry heat at bay.

The large doors of the city’s gates groaned and creaked open and the small company walked through the gateway and made their way to the front where the Master's sat and waited for the Queen.

While marching toward the Master's, Kraznys stood up from his cushioned seat to greet the young Queen. Right behind him followed two men Silas recognized as Kraznys’ fighters. Since he no longer belonged to Kraznys, his former master had to get someone else to take his place as a personal guard. What surprised him was that one of them was his close friend Aros standing guard behind Kraznys. 

Aros looked just as surprised to see Silas here on opposite sides. Apparently, Kraznys most likely did not tell his fighters about earning his freedom. They most likely assumed Silas died in the arena.

"Master Kraznys says they are untested," Missandei translated for the Mother of Dragons as they marched over to the head of the army. "He says you would be wise to blood them early. There are many cities between here and there, cities ripe for the sacking."

As they marched through the Plaza the citizens, especially the noblemen walked towards the group, their anxious eyes fixated on the covered cage of Drogon's being carried towards his new owner.

"Should you take captives," Missandei continued her kinder and more professional translation of what Kraznys was actually saying. "The Masters will buy the healthy ones at a good price. And who knows, maybe in ten years some of the boys you sell to us will one day become Unsullied as well."

Silas rolled his eyes. The Practice of creating the Unsullied needed to be stopped and from the look on the young Queen's face, she believed so as well.

Daenerys ignored the Master's comment and proceeded to her caged dragon.

Silas still couldn't believe that she was going to go through with it. She was actually going to give this horrible man a dragon.

The young Queen unlatched the door and took the chain leash collared to her dragon in her hand and held on tight.

The surrounding crowd gasped in awe at the sight of the black screeching dragon that stepped out of its cage. Some of them shrieked when the creature spread out its large black wings and glided up in the air like a kite catching the wind. The dragon might still be small compared to ones read about in the stories but Drogon still looks just as menacing to the awestruck crowd.

Daenerys led her magnificent creature to his new undeserving owner.

Silas glanced at his former Master, the bald man stood tall, watching smugly as he waited for his new pet to be brought to him by the Mother of Dragons herself. Daenerys however, kept her expression stern and stoic as she walked the dragon forward.

The Dragon Queen handed the chain to Kraznys who snatched it from her grasp. The dragon flew around rather frantically overhead, he probably understood what was happening and didn't like it.

Kraznys held on to the chain tightly as to not let when the dragon's flying became a little erratic under his new ownership.

Kraznys handed the whip to Daenerys as he stared in amazement at his new pet.

"Is it done then?" The young Queen asked, finally saying something. Daenerys couldn't even look at Kraznys or her dragon screeching for her. "Do they belong to me?"

The Master responded to her question in his native tongue and Missandei translated his words for her.

"It is done," Missandei informed the Queen.

_ "She holds the whip," _  Kraznys told his former translator to say.  _ "The bitch has her army." _

Silas saw the glare Daenerys gave his former Master and he knew she must have understood what Kraznys was saying to her. What he really was saying and not the edited version Missandei gave her.

"You hold the whip. The army is now yours."

Daenerys gave Kraznys one last glare before turning to her new army.

The black dragon screeched for his mother but Dany didn't turn back to console the creature but kept walking to her newly acquired army.

The Dragon Queen stopped when she stood ahead of her army that patiently waited for her orders.

_ "Unsullied!" _  Daenerys addressed her army in Valyrian.

Silas smiled to himself. His assumption was right, she did understand what Kraznys was saying the whole time.

The entire army raised their shield arm to their chest in unison, ready for the Queen's instructions.

Silas glanced at Kraznys who seemed to have trouble controlling the dragon.

_ "Forward march!" _  the young Queen commanded the Unsullied. Without hesitation, the men did as ordered marched forward.

_ "Halt!" _

The entire army stopped in their tracks. All was silent except for the screeches coming from Drogon.

" _ Tell the bitch her beast won't come!" _  Kraznys ordered Missandei to say to Daenerys. Unfortunately for him, Daenerys understood exactly what he said.

Turning away from her army, the young Queen faced Kraznys.

" _ A dragon is not a slave," _  Daenerys responded in Valyrian.

The look on the Kraznys' face was priceless when he found out she could not only understand him but also speak the same language as well. Silas had never seen the man looked so shocked.

" _ You speak Valyrian!" _  Kraznys spat at the Queen as he tried to keep a hold of the dragon's chain.

The young Queen only smirked at the angry man.

" _ I am Daenerys Stormborn of the house Targaryen," _  She answered him back confidently.  _ "Of the blood of old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue." _

Silas and Missandei glanced at each other and then to their former master, both pleased to see that for once the bald man had nothing to say.

The Queen clearly had nothing left to say to Kraznys mo Nakloz and returned back to her army.

" _ Unsullied!" _  Daenerys called out once again to the thousands of soldiers before her. What happened next, however, left Silas stunned at the order she gave them.

" _ Slay the Masters! Slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip! But harm no child! Strike the chains off every slave you see!" _

The Unsullied started with the men patrolling their columns that made sure they stayed in their place.

One by one, the Unsullied began killing those that their Queen ordered them to kill before spreading out all over the Plaza to get the rest.

Kraznys watched in horror at what was happening and tried to stop it.

" _ I am your master!" _  he yelled out to the Unsullied and tried to gain control of the situation.

Silas unsheathed one of his swords, as did Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah in case they needed to protect their Queen as Kraznys commanded the soldiers to kill her.

" _ KILL HER!" _  Kraznys yelled out.  _ "KILL HER!" _

Daenerys faced the Master one last time and only said a single word.

" _ Dracarys!" _

Everyone turned back to Kraznys and for a moment, nothing happened. Drogon had stopped trying to get away and looked down at the man holding him still. The dragon then opened his mouth but instead of a screech coming out, fire spouted from his wide mouth and consumed the Master.

Silas' emerald eyes widened in shock at seeing his former master engulfed in fire, screaming and flailing his arms around until he fell to his knees and collapsed onto the sandy ground where his body continued to burn even after the man had died.

“Silas!” 

Hearing his name being yelled out by Ser Barristan caught Silas attention and just in time. When he turned around, Kraznys’ bodyguards were charging at him with their swords raised and ready to strike him. 

Silas raised his weapons to defend himself but did not attack them. He didn’t want to harm them. They should not have to die for a master that was already dead.

Aros and the other guard, Varen, stopped in their tracks a few feet from where Silas stood. They too hesitated to attack Silas.

“Aros! Varen!” Silas called out to his friends. “You don’t have to do this!”

“She attacked our master.” Varen snapped back at Silas. 

“She killed him and freed you!” Silas countered, hoping that they would see reason. “You don’t have to serve anyone anymore! Your life is yours again!”

Varen looked conflicted and remained guarded but Aros lowered his sword and straightened his body.

“Varen, he’s right. We are now free from our Master's shackles,” Aros said, coming to Silas’ defense. 

Silas was relieved that Aros trusted him. He didn’t want to have to fight him, to kill him if need be and knowing Aros it most likely would have come to that. 

Varen finally conceded and lowered his weapon as well. 

“Thank you, the both of you,” Silas told both of them, receiving a nod in return from each man. 

“Is there anything we can do, my friend?” Aros asked Silas. 

“There is. Head back to Kraznys’ palace and free the rest of his slaves and any slaves you come across. Free as many as you can! Make this city a free one!”

Aros and Varen nodded and turned back to the direction of the city.

“Be safe brothers!” Silas called back to his friends.

“You as well brother!” they both yelled back before entering the city where Silas could no longer see them. He hoped the two survived the liberation and became free men once more. 

-

-

 

The rest of the Unsullied readied themselves for more guards, raising their shield and brandishing their spears for the oncoming attacks.

It was an amazing sight to witness. The Unsullied charged after the guards and the men that held the whips just as Daenerys commanded them.

Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah and Silas covered Daenerys and Missandei, making sure that none of the guards came at them.

Silas glanced at every angle, watching the Unsullied do what they were told to do, killing the slavers and breaking chains off slaves in the Plaza.

All the while, Drogon flew up the city's wall and burned the stationed guards off the top of the wall where they fell down to the ground in a fiery blaze.

Silas glanced over to Daenerys, her face showed no expression at what was happening to the city, how she liberated the slaves from their chains. 

The aftermath was a mess. Bodies of guards and the masters littered the ground of the Plaza, bodies of all their enemies but none of the Unsullied.

As Silas looked around at the Plaza, he couldn't find one body of an Unsullied among the dead.

Once the smoke cleared, Silas got a better look at his former master but wished he hadn't once he saw the burnt corpse. He never thought Kraznys could look uglier yet he stood corrected.

A hand on his shoulder peeled Silas' gaze from the corpse to Ser Barristan who motioned to follow him and did as he was told.

The three men and Missandei walked over to Daenerys who only stood in silence as she gazed at her army.

Without saying anything, the Queen walked forward through the gaps between each column of soldiers and mounted the white horse that waited for her.

" _ Unsullied!" _  The Queen called out to her soldiers as she rode her horse from column to column.  _ "You have been slaves all your life. Today, you are free! Any man who wishes to leave may leave and no one will harm him! I give you my word!" _

That was a surprise for Silas. She can't afford to lose any soldiers just as she gained some. She was going to need as many soldiers as she can get if she is going to take on the whole of Westeros. Letting these men go will not help her.

" _ Will you fight for me? As free men?" _

The Plaza remained unusually silent, only the howling of the hot wind blowing through the desert city.

Then in the distance, Silas heard a tapping sound of wood hitting the ground. Silas looked around and saw that more and more Unsullied did the same thing and tapped the bottom of their spears on the ground. Together, it made a thunderous sound.

They didn't say it nor did they need to, but these soldiers wanted to stay. They wanted to fight, for their Queen.

Silas was inspired by the sight around him. These men who had no reason to fight, who now have their freedom decided to remain with the young Queen.

_ That is true loyalty _ , Silas thought to himself proudly.

A small group of Unsullied brought horses from the stables for the rest of the Queen's entourage to ride on while they made their way out of the city of Astapor, hopefully for good.

Silas looked back at the city one last time and for the first time in two years, he felt like the weight of everything that happened in that horrid city was lifted and now he was one step closer to claiming his vengeance.

His gaze fell to the black mass of Unsullied soldiers marching behind him and the rest of the Queen's entourage. She might not have as many soldiers as the Lords of Westeros but what she has is a good start. Hopefully in due time, more with join her army.

The high pitched screeches from above caused Silas to look up at the magnificent sight of the Queen's three dragons flying above them. They were not yet big enough to take on armies but they were still very dangerous to their mother's enemies. The memory of Kraznys mo Nakloz burnt body was evidence of how dangerous they already are.

Silas can only imagine the look on his mother and brother's face when they see what coming for them. They will have no idea what's heading their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really fun to write up, especially the flashback scene and the other POV of other characters.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter and as usual, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to message me or leave a review and I will respond as soon as possible.


	4. What happens in the desert...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silas and Doreah become more friendly as they travel through the desert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, a bit of lime in this chapter!

 

 

**The Other Prince**

 

**CH.4**

 

**What happens in the desert…**

 

 

Three days had passed since the revolt in Astapor and word of what happened had already spread to Yunkai and Meereen. No doubt the cities beyond Slavers Bay already knew as well that the young Targaryen Queen had set her dragons and newly acquired army onto Astapor's slavers and Noblemen, setting free the slaves of the city shortly before departing the city. While the former slaves, now free to make their own decisions, decided to remain in Astapor, a vast majority made the choice to travel with Daenerys and her army in the hopes of making a new life for them.

It wasn't much of an assumption that people outside of Astapor knew what happened when the fellow travelers they came across would praise the young Queen for what she did and wished her good fortune in her future endeavors. The vendors they passed would on the desert road would even gift her with some of their wares that she graciously accepted with a thank you and a smile on her beautiful beaming face.

Now, the army marched through the desert with the hot bright sun blazing down on the procession that marched through the desert on the trail to the city of Yunkai.

Galloping beside the trail, passing by the Unsullied was Silas on his dark grey stallion as he made his way to the head of the procession where the Queen rode her white mare with her handmaidens and her Knights surrounded her.

Silas slowed the horse down to an easy trot when he reached Ser Barristan.

"Did this vendor have anything good?" the famous knight asked as he took a quick side glance at the younger man. While they rode down the trail to the next city, they had come across various caravans that passed the overwhelming procession through the desert path, Silas made sure stop at every caravan vendor and see what they had to sell in the hopes of finding something to his liking.

So far, the former Prince purchased new pieces of armor and clothing to add to what he already has or bought the occasional wineskin and some food that he shared with Ser Barristan and on occasion with Doreah when she joined them for supper when they camped after a day's long journey, something that has been happening on a regular occasion.

While Silas did consider those items he purchased essential, they were not what he was looking for when browsing through the wares. What he wanted, Silas came to realize was a very hard commodity to find while traveling in the desert. However, today he met with a vendor that carried exactly what he had been searching for since the beginning of their travels.

Silas huffed a light chuckle and patted the brown word leather bag tied to the side of his saddle.

"Aye, this one had a much better selection to choose from. I'll be having a good read tonight when we make camp."

The corners of the old Knight's lips upturned to a hint of a smile hidden beneath his thick white beard as he listened to Silas' excitement about the books he purchased. He remembered Silas always being this excited whenever he got a new book when he was younger. the young Prince would run through the Red Keep just to find him and tell him about the new book. Ser Barristan could also remember when the boy would try and tell his father about the story only to be quickly sent away by the late King who couldn't care less about the book.

Ser Barristan always thought it amusing at different Silas was from his father. The lad wasn't hungry for a fight like Robert, even though Silas had the potential to be one of the greatest warriors, even surpassing his father, even himself. Yet, the former Prince preferred a book in hand rather than a sword and was proud of the boy for that.

While Ser Barristan knew Silas was nothing like his father, the former Prince did remind him of someone else, a person he considered a great friend even if he has been gone from this world for over twenty years now.

It surprised Ser Barristan how so much in common Silas had with the late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the Knight could swear he was talking to the same person when he conversed with Silas. It wasn't just their preferences for books and playing music rather than swords and fighting but their ideas for a better Westeros were also similar, beginning with wanting to help clean and rebuild Flea Bottom for the people.

If that wasn't enough, they also shared similar disinterests as well, mostly with becoming King of the Seven Kingdoms. While Rhaegar never openly expressed his feelings about inheriting the crown, Ser Barristan could tell his good friend hated the idea of not being able to choose what he wanted and that if he had the choice, he would have forsaken his inheritance and live the life he wanted rather than what was set out for him.

Silas was the same. Before being taken out of the line of succession, Silas was unhappy about one day becoming King. The young Prince would often say how he wanted to explore the world and travel to distant lands that he often read about in his books.

The Knight chuckled to himself when he realized that Silas did get his wish but not in the way he wanted.

Ser Barristan was taken from his thoughts when he heard the lovely sound of the lute being played. He turned to the former Prince, watching him strum the strings from the instrument he had purchased back in Astapor.

The song Silas played had a nice happy melody to it. Not a fast-paced tune but a fun jig nonetheless. Even the younger man's horse seemed to enjoy the song and bobbed his head to the melody.

"Only you would be able to find a horse that enjoys music." Ser Barristan jested.

Silas chuckled and gave the silver stallion a gentle pat on his long neck.

"What can I say, we have this connection. Don't we Argento?" Silas asked the horse who neighed in response.

"Well, I think he has very good taste in music," chimed in a familiar voice that Silas quickly recognized. The two men turned in time to see Doreah riding up beside them on her own chestnut mare. "You play wonderfully."

Ser Barristan murmured something about checking on the Queen and giving them some space. The old Knight made his way further up the procession but not before giving Silas a quick wink that made the former Prince roll his eyes.

"Why thank you, my Lady," Silas returned the compliment by smiling kindly at her and gave her a small bow of his head. "It is good to know that two years of not playing haven't hindered all my hard work."

"So, you can play the lute." Doreah precisely candidly deduced. "But the real question is…can you sing as well?"

"Oh…uhh…" Silas nervously chuckled and his fingers through the thick locks of his jet-black hair. "Well, to be honest, I haven't sung in quite some time. I doubt I am any good now."

"Just give it a try," Doreah pleaded to him with a hopeful glint in her sapphire eyes. "Please? for me?"

Silas let out a resigned sigh and answered with a reluctant nod. He could never deny a request, not then and not now. He just hoped that his voice hadn't changed on him for the worse.

Doreah grinned an excited smile and clapped her hands as encouragement to the reluctant young man to perform for her.

Silas paused for a moment to think of a song. It had been such a long time and much has happened that he could barely remember how most of the songs went.

Finally, a song that he remembered in its entirety came to mind and adjusted the lute in his grasp.

Silas began playing the tune to the song, starting off slow to allow himself to familiarize how the song went until it gradually came back to him and sped up to the proper tempo and began to sing.

Doreah stared at the former Prince in stunned silence as she listened to his singing. To say Silas was a good singer would be a vast understatement. He had a gorgeous melodic singing voice that serenaded her better than any other Bard that tried to seduce her in the past.

The song he chose was a beautiful piece that she never heard before, much to her surprise. She thought she had heard all of them by her clients when they attempted to woo her.

The song told a sweet tale of two friends a timid boy and an outgoing girl who made it her mission to bring the boy out of his shell all the while not realizing that the boy let her do this because he was secretly in love with her. The song went on more about their years of friendship and ended with the boy, now a young man, expressing his love for the girl, now a young woman, accepting his love and the two living happily ever after.

When the song finished, and the last chord played, Silas turned to Doreah, who had remained silent, making Silas feel uneasy.

"I sounded terrible didn't I?" Silas nervously said, combing his fingers through his hair again.

"No, you didn't!" Doreah quickly exclaimed. "Your singing was amazing. I was just shocked at how wonderful a voice you have and then the song…" she placed a hand over her heart and closed her eyes for a fleeting moment. "The song was just beautiful."

"Thank you," he responded with a shy half-smile widening on his face.

"Do you want to know a secret?" he asked the handmaiden. Doreah gave him a nod as a response. "I wrote that song."

"You?" Doreah asked sounding surprised at the revelation. "You wrote that beautiful song?"

Silas nodded back. "I wrote it a while back. I think it was four or five years ago."

"It's about you, isn't it?"

Silas turned to Doreah, mildly surprised by her forward yet correct assumption.

"Aye, it is," he responded to her statement. There was no sense in denying it. "I was very shy when I was younger." The smile on his face gradually fades to a frown as he thought about the inspiration for the song. "Though, I gave the couple in the song a happier ending."

"I take it the relationship ended when you were sent away?" Doreah asked him, taking note of his changed expression.

Silas shook his head, much to her surprise, that this beautiful relationship didn't end when Silas was banished from his country.

"I ended it," Silas replied shortly. "When I realized she wanted something that I could not give her."

"What was that?"

"A Kingdom." Silas answered her with a sad smile. "She never directly said the words but she wanted to be Queen. She would bring up how great a King I would be and how much she hoped that we would be married one day. Neither would have been possible for us. I was removed from the line of succession for the crown, to discuss me obtaining the crown would be considered treason. Not only that, but she also was the only daughter of a very prominent family. Her parents, as well as her grandmother,  would want the best for her, even if that meant her becoming Queen."

"She only wanted to be with you because she thought you could make her a Queen someday?" Doreah sounded astounded at how someone would do that. "That was a very cruel thing to do to you Silas."

"I knew what she was doing," Silas replied nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. "She wasn't cruel for doing what she did. It was after all at the bidding of her family. Mostly her Grandmother. But she certainly knew how to manipulate others and while our relationship might've started out as a ploy I like to think she developed genuine feelings for me as we got to know each other better as I did for her."

"You are far too kind for this world Silas Baratheon." Doreah kindly smiled at him, astounded at how forgiving he was to the young woman that tried to use him for her own gain.

"HALT!"

The sudden command caught the two off guard when it interrupted the rest of their conversation.

Silas looked around and was amused to find out that the two had fallen behind the Queen's court far up ahead.

"It appears that we have fallen back," Silas chuckled and nodded his head forward. "Come on, we better catch up with the others before they think we've run off."

"What's going on?" Doreah asked Silas when they glanced at the Unsullied soldiers standing at attention. "I wonder why we've stopped."

"I don't know," he said with a shrug of his shoulders just before spotting Ser Barristan riding toward them. "I think we're about to find out."

"Why have we stopped?" Silas asked the old Knight.

"There's a place down the road we can use to rest for a few days." Ser Barristan pointed straight ahead of them. Not too far in the distance, Silas could see a forest of green amongst the golden desert with a river of water running in between. "The Queen sent a small party to scout the area. If it's vacant, we'll set up camp."

Silas nodded in agreement. He was ready to get off his horse and rest for the day not to mention it would be a relief for the former slaves that followed them. Not many traveled this much, especially the children that came along.

When Silas and Doreah rode up to the front with Ser Barristan, the young Queen was talking with Ser Jorah and her newest handmaiden Missandei about how to choose a Commander for the Unsullied.

As they rode up, Silas caught the fleeting violet glare from Daenerys when she noticed him riding beside Doreah, as if he had done something inappropriate with her handmaiden. nearly a week of traveling together and the Young Queen still didn't fully trust him, if at all. Though in truth, the two haven't had the chance to converse much. Daenerys seemed determined to Silas as no more than the son of the Usurper Robert Baratheon and it didn't help that Ser Jorah passively encouraged the hostility. Even with Ser Barristan's insistence, Daenerys remained guarded around the young man.

"Nice of you to join us," The young Queen curtly greeted Silas. "For a moment, I thought you might have run off, abandoning your oath."

"Many apologies your Grace for your concern about me," Silas playfully apologized. The Queen opened her mouth to interject about the comment of her concern for him but continued his apology. "But you do not have to worry about me abandoning you. I swore an oath to you and I promise to uphold that oath."

"Maybe then you should stay where we can keep an eye on you boy rather than waste time searching for you," Ser Jorah chimed in passively. "and not slink off with one of her Grace's handmaidens."

Silas glared at the disgraced Knight for the accusation he threw at him and indirectly at Doreah, especially as it wasn't even true.

He was about to retort when he felt Doreah's soft hand gently grip his forearm, her way of stopping him.

"Apologies Khaleesi," Doreah addressed Daenerys. The young Queen's violet stare moved from Silas and softened when they turned to her Handmaiden. "It was my fault. I was the one being bothersome to Silas, not the other way around and I accidentally distracted him. If it's anyone you should be mad at, it's me."

Daenerys stared sternly at the two, giving Silas a longer glare before forgiving Doreah and asked her to attend to her dragons before continuing with the discussion concerning the leadership of the Unsullied.

By the time the scouts returned to the party, Daenerys and the rest of her court agreed to let the Unsullied Officers decide amongst themselves who will be the Commander and sent Missandei to inform Officers of this decision.

With the report that the oasis was vacant, Daenerys commanded the procession to move onward to their new campsite to rest before traveling to the next city.

-

-

While the Procession spread out throughout the island of green to set up their tents and relax after the long march, Silas rode alongside Ser Barristan and to his mild dismay, Ser Jorah around the camp to check if anyone required assistance.

When they passed by the Queen's quarters, Silas glanced back and watched as Doreah and Irri moved Daenerys' belongings inside the tent he had helped pitch earlier at Doreah's request.

Doreah noticed Silas watching her as she made her way to the tent and gave him a sweet smile that he returned in kind with a small bow of his head.

"It was a bitch of a siege." Silas heard the Bear Knight say, taking his attention away from the alluring handmaiden.

The group of three slowed their horses to as they made their way to the river's edge and got off their horses to lead them by foot to flowing fresh water to drink.

While Silas patted Argento as the silver horse drank the cool water, he watched as the Queen across the river met with the Unsullied Officers and Missandei waiting to announce to her whom they chose as their Commander.

"You were first through the break at Pyke?" Ser Barristan asked as the two older men reminisced about the Greyjoy Rebellion.

_ A stupid rebellion, my uncle Tyrion would say _ , and Silas agreed with him. Balon Greyjoy relied too much on the sea to protect him and thought so little of King Robert and thought he wouldn't be able to call enough banners to his side. How wrong Balon was when he saw the vast array of banners and even more soldiers standing behind the Stag King himself. Defenseless since Stannis lured Balon's warships into a trap, Silas' father along with Lord Stark and the Lords Tywin and Jon Arryn led the forces through the breach at Pyke, the Ironborn resistance collapsed and Balon Greyjoy surrendered and in the end lost his crown, his ships and his two eldest sons with his third being kept as a ward in Winterfell in the care of the Starks.

"The second," Ser Jorah corrected the former Lord Commander. "Thoros of Myr went in alone waving that flaming sword of his." The Bear Knight flailed his arm in the air, pretending to be waving his own flaming sword.

Ser Barristan chuckled. "Thoros of Myr. Bloody madman."

Silas remembered the fire priest. He came to the Red Keep with the mission to convert the King to worship the Lord of Light. Unfortunately for Thoros, Robert wasn't a very religious man, and, in the end, the priest became of the Kings favorite drinking partners for years to come. Silas was fond of the fire priest, he was a funny man for supposedly being religious and an equally talented swordsman. Silas used to stare in awe when Thoros lit his sword on fire during the melee tournaments and then laughed when the contenders ran away from the flaming sword slashing at them.

"Robert Knighted you after the battle?"

"Proudest moment of my life," Ser Jorah commented. Silas could hear the tinge of sadness in the disgraced Knights brief change of tone. "One knee in the dust, the Kings sword on my shoulder, listening to the words 'In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave.' All I could think of was how badly I had to piss."

Silas and Ser Barristan burst out laughing with Ser Jorah.

"In full plate metal for sixteen hours. Never occurred to me till the fighting was over. I was very nearly the first man Knighted t piss on the Kings boots."

"Robert would have laughed," Ser Barristan chortled. Silas had to agree with the former Kingsguard Commander. "He was a good man, a great warrior. But a terrible King."

Ser Barristan quickly turned to Silas after realizing what he said.

"Apologies," the Knight said to Silas. "I didn't mean to sound-"

"No, no it's fine Ser Barristan," Silas interjected. "I know my father wasn't a good King either. To tell you the truth, he wasn't a good father either. He could lead men to battle but he couldn't lead a Kingdom."

"You thought you could?" Ser Jorah snidely asked him, reminding Silas of the failed attempt to take the throne from his mother and brother. The disgraced Knight liked to remind Silas that he was still considered an enemy here.

"I at least thought I could do a better job than my father and certainly more than what Joffrey is doing now," Silas coolly replied back. "I did what I did to stop this war that is dividing Westeros. I didn't do what I did because I wanted power."

Ser Jorah scoffed at the former Prince, shaking his balding head.

"I'll believe that when it snows in Dorne."

Silas rolled his eyes and exhaled a slow deep sigh. He was tired of trying to convince the Knight that he isn't the enemy. He was even more tired of taking Ser Jorah's daily insults and couldn't keep back what he said next.

"Then believe this Ser Jorah," Silas growled as he got back atop his horse. "Daenerys Targaryen cannot take Westeros with a disgraced Knight by her side. Especially a traitorous disgraced Knight."

Ser Jorah's eyes widened at the former Prince's emphasis on the word traitorous, confirming Silas' suspicion on one thing that he wondered since joining Daenerys' army. Her Bear Knight hasn't yet told her the truth behind his allegiance to her cause.

Ser Jorah had to have some sort of knowledge that Silas sat in on the Small Council meetings while he worked as one of Varys' spies to gain his pardon. This could be his reason for being so hostile toward the former Prince. If Silas hadn't known about Jorah working with Varys, he would have thought this attitude he has toward him could be about the Queen's safety but he now knows that half of it is about keeping his past partnership with the spymaster a secret to remain by the Queen's side.

As Silas directed Argento to the makeshift stable with the other horses, he thought about coming forward to the Queen and tell her the truth about Ser Jorah. However, he knew that would be a low thing to do. The Knight, as irritating as he is to him, appeared to be fiercely loyal to Daenerys. Even declining his pardon to return home in order to stay by her side.

Silas decided to keep Jorah's secret to himself, for now at least. While the Knight appeared loyal, Silas wanted to remain cautious of the man as well. he could see that the Knight was more than loyal to Daenerys and has seen how women change men and Ser Jorah was no exception when he remembered what the disgraced did that forced him to leave Westeros in the first place.

The foul mood Silas was feeling remained present when he walked into his tent, wanting to remain in there until he felt better to be in the company of others.

Silas knew the best way to release his frustration and crossed the rather spacious tent to armor stand where he had propped his swords up against and picked up his weapons.

Since he was not going to combat with another person, Silas decided to do without the armor and left his swords and his waterskin in hand to find somewhere to train for a while.

Hitching the sword belt onto his shoulder, Silas marched his way just beyond the campsite to a secluded area for the privacy he wanted while worked out his frustration.

-

-

The bright blue sky gradually gave way to the darkening colors of dusk fast approaching by the time Silas returned to the campsite, his tired hunched body glistened with the sweat and dirt that stained his loose dark blue cotton tunic and dark brown leather pants and scuffed boot after the few hours of hard training.

As grueling as the training was that he did during his enslavement, he did appreciate what it did for him and continued to practice what he learned. Physically, it made him stronger faster and more agile while mentally, it made him more focused and helped him concentrate better, a skill very much needed when fighting in the pits. The instructor he trained under, a man named Balthor famed for his many glorious victories in the fighting pits across Slavers Bay, was a tough dour man hardened by the years of slavery and fighting in the pits he endured for over two decades until he earned his freedom. He worked alongside Kraznys for another decade to train the late master's fighters.

Silas was stubborn at first, confident with his own fighting skills he learned under Ser Barristan however, the former Prince was quickly taught that his skills will do him no good in the pits when he found himself pinned to the sandy floor with a training sword held to his throat by one of the other fighters set upon him by Balthor. Grudgingly, Silas trained alongside the rest of the recruits, eventually learning not only new training exercises but new fighting techniques to enhance what he already knew that helped him immensely when fighting in the pits.

His victories garnered Silas a little fame amongst the spectators of the deadly sport as well as the respect of Balthor, a feat that was not easy to achieve, which made the instructors passing particularly difficult for Silas to deal with that left him in a sullen mood in the months after until the day he was freed by Daenerys. Since the day Balthor died, Silas made a promise to honor the man's memory by continuing to practice what he learned from the famed warrior.

What Silas liked most about the training was how it helped him work out all his pent up anger and frustration and these past couple of years he had plenty. Swinging both of his swords at a makeshift practice dummy and tackling it down to the ground really helped release his frustration he felt. Now, all he felt was the soreness and exhaustion of a good days training but also a feeling of ease and a clear mind as he trudged back to his tent.

Once inside the rather spacious tent, Silas dropped his weapons beside his armor and gathered a set of clean clothing and items to wash himself before heading back outside to find a place to bathe.

While out looking for a place to train, Silas had come across an undisturbed area downstream that seemed private enough to bathe in peace. Two years of bathing in front of others ought to make Silas used to being naked in front of others but all it did was make him feel more vulnerable and surrounded by dangerous men.

Along the bank of the river's edge, Silas found a pile of large rocks half submerged in the water. He climbed onto the dry half and placed his clothing and washing items nearby his feet before undressing from his dirtied clothes starting with pulling his tunic off over his head while slipping off his boots with his other foot. After unlacing and removing his trousers from his persons, Silas folded the dirty clothes in a neat pile and walked his exposed nude form to the edge of the rocks and jumped into the water, submerging his entire body into the water.

He was surprised with how deep the river turned out to be, assuming it to be no more than five or six feet at the most. Now, he was pretty sure it might be as deep as ten feet.

The cold water was a very refreshing feeling from the hot dry air of the desert. The coolness was also a soothing comfort to his aching muscles as the water gently massaged the pain away.

Silas swam up to the top of the water to catch his breath and swam a couple laps from bank to bank before going back to the rock holding his stuff and getting his soap and scrubber to wash his body in the shallow edge.

After washing himself clean, Silas decided to stay a bit longer, enjoying the water too much to leave. He lied on his back atop the water's surface, enjoying the weightless feeling of his body floating as he lazily rocked back and forth with the gentle waves of the river.

"Lovely place for a swim." a familiar voice called out to Silas, scaring him enough to make him stand up so fast he made himself dizzy and his vision a tad blurry.

When his vision began to clear and he saw the unexpected guest standing on the river bank, Silas' eyes widened in shock as Doreah smiled over at him.

"Doreah." He said breathlessly and at that moment he realized that he is still very naked and covered his nether regions with his hands and lowered himself further into the water. "I didn't hear you coming over."

"Sorry about that, I didn't mean to disturb you," she replied but didn't sound the least bit apologetic in the slightest. "I saw you heading toward the river and figured you were going for a swim. I thought you might like the company."

Before he could protest, Doreah had already begun to undress herself by unclasping the straps to her dress and letting it slip from her shoulders and fall past her ample breasts. Silas quickly turned himself from the sight, mostly to hide the reddening glow he could feel warming his cheeks. Silas couldn't deny Doreah has a gorgeous figure, still seeing her naked form perfectly in his mind.

"Er…well I was just bathing—"

"That's great!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. He could hear her enter the river, sending ripples of her presence his way. "I needed one myself after today's long journey."

The sound of her wading to him became louder as she neared him until suddenly, it stopped. All he could hear was the buzzing of the insects on land and the light rustle of the warm breeze dancing through the leaves of the nearby trees and brush.

He finally turned back around and saw she was nowhere in sight. He looked to the river bank to see if she went back on land, but no wet footsteps disturbed the sandy shore.

"Doreah?" he called out to the missing woman as he continued to look around his surroundings for her. Silas called out her name, again and again, each time a little louder, his worry for the handmaiden becoming stronger by the second. Diving underwater he tried to find her but the water was too murky to see through and quickly swam back up to the surface.

"Fuck! DOREAH!" he yelled out in a panic before hearing a loud splash behind him. Turning around, he came face to face with a laughing Doreah wiping away water and pushing back her long blonde hair as he felt a wave of relief coming over him now seeing she was okay.

"Gods you gave me such a fright!"

"I'm sorry!" Doreah apologized seeing that he was worried about her safety. Silas glanced at her with a furrowed brow before turning away. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Silas?" Doreah said warily when Silas continued to ignore her much to her worry that he was angry with her for playing that trick on him.

Swimming closer to him, Doreah cautiously tapped his shoulder, not knowing if he would be angry at her. She just hoped he wasn't like Viserys was with her, assuming that all royalty acted the same. She could still remember his cruel nature and how her Queen's horrid late brother treated her and anyone that he deemed low in status.

When Silas finally turned around, his eyebrow was arched upward and a mischievous smirk replaced the frown he usually wore.

Before Doreah could react, Silas splashed her with an explosive wave of water that got her in the face. The young woman shrieked at the sudden attack and began to splash back at him, turning the fight into an all-out splash war between the two.

Silas stopped a moment to clear his eyes of water only to be stunned by the sudden weight that jumped on top of him. He could feel the handmaidens tight embrace as she wrapped her arms and legs around his body.

Laughing with Doreah and caught in the moment, Silas wrapped his arms around her petite figure, hugging her close to his larger stature. As his hands roamed her smooth bareback, Silas soon realized that they both were still very naked making him suddenly feel too exposed and tried to carefully remove her only to have her hold on tighter.

"Doreah, maybe we shouldn't—"

The handmaiden interrupted him by moving her hands to both sides of his face and lowering his head until his forehead met hers.

"It's okay," she said breathlessly with a playful smirk as her hands roamed through Silas' wet locks of hair. "I want this."

Silas closed his eyes as he felt Doreah's full lips softly skim his temple and trace down to his lightly bearded jawline. His body remained tense at her touch, not being able to relax as his heart pounded hard in his chest, not in a good way. It wasn't her that made him feel this way, but the memories of the things Kraznys forced him to do with the other slave girls in front of a crowd of people watching him, laughing at him and throwing their wine on him as he did what he had to do.

"What if we are seen?" he said hoping that will deter Doreah from going any further.

"We won't be, I promise," Doreah responded back with a playful smile. She leaned in to continue only for Silas to stop her.

Turning back to her, Silas could see the same look she gave him the last time he spurned her advances, shocked.

"I'm just…I'm just a private person is all," Silas explained when he noticed the tinge of hurt in her eyes. He wasn't trying to hurt her feelings or make her feel bad in any way. "I'm not very comfortable doing…that…out in the open."

While what Silas told her was true, he wasn't one to do such salacious acts in a public place, he was still uncomfortable with the act itself.

Doreah sighed as she pulled away from Silas. He could tell she was displeased but hid it well with her alluring smile as she slid her hands from around his neck and down his chest until they touched the cold water.

"You really are a very shy young man, aren't you?" She jested at Silas as she began to swim toward the shore to collect the soap bar and body scrubber and sat in the shallow end to begin scrubbing herself.

Silas quickly turned around when Doreah stood up from the water, leaving her entire fit petite figure exposed as she began to scrub herself with the soapy scrubber.

"In all my years working in a pleasure house in Lys, I have very rarely come across men that were so shy to be with women." Silas could hear her say as she continued to wash her body, hearing the water drip from her body back into the river as she rinsed the soap off. "When I did, they were usually timid virgins trying to become men."

There was a moment of silence between the two when he heard the sudden sound of her body turning in the water. In another moment, she swam back to Silas, coming face to face with the young man with an amused look upon her beautiful face.

"Wait, you're not a virgin, are you?" Doreah forwardly asked him. "Is that why you are acting like this?"

"No!" Silas responded defensively, eliciting a small giggle from the young woman with a mischievous smile on her face at seeing how he reacted to her question, almost like a defiant child being accused of something.

"Oh, so the gallant Prince was a naughty Prince as well," Doreah said upon learning of Silas' status. "Who was your first time with then? A brothel girl? That's who most boys go to for their first time."

"No," Silas replied shortly. He didn't want to talk about this.

"Then was it to one of those young ladies in the court? Or that girl you were in love with-"

"No, none of them," Silas sighed with a crooked smile.

Doreah appeared to be unconvinced, making Silas certain that she wasn't going to stop her interrogation.

"It was with a slave girl. Sometime after I was purchased by Kraznys," he muttered to her, feeling self-conscious when he answered her. "I tried to wait until I was married…or at least with a woman that I truly loved—"

"But then you were banished and enslaved," Doreah finished the sentence for him. She thought it was odd yet romantic that a man would care so much about waiting to be with a woman. Most men that she encountered didn't care at all if they could pay for it.

Silas nodded in response. That was half of the truth.

"I know it doesn't seem very…manly…but I wanted my first time to be as special as the woman I choose to spend the rest of my life with."

Silas looked down rubbing his fingers through his wet hair, embarrassed by his confession and trying to hide his reddening face from the adoring look Doreah gave him. Just when she thought Silas couldn't be any sweeter, he ends up proving her wrong.

"Any woman that earns your love is the luckiest woman in the world." She gently told him, her blue doe eyes watched a small smile form at the compliment given to him.

For a long moment, the two gazed at each other in silence. Silas couldn't help but notice how beautiful the handmaiden was, even with her hair damp and make up washed from her face, she still had a natural gorgeous beauty that was so rare to witness.

She inched herself closer to him, gradually closing the gap between them. Seeing Doreah move ever closer, Silas had a burning desire to move away from the young woman yet, at the same time he couldn't move away from her, as if his body and mind is no longer working together.

"I don't think we should be doing this," Silas said almost in a whisper that only he and Doreah could hear. Doreah was so close to him now that he could the light freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. "we could get into trouble by the Queen."

His concern did not seem to faze the handmaiden. In fact, it only made her chuckle at his concern.

"The Queen doesn't mind who her handmaidens pursue," Doreah informed the hesitant young man.

The Handmaiden leans in, pulling Silas closer to her. Her action catches Silas by surprise but he no longer protests. Running her fingers on one hand through his wet tresses, Doreah moves her other hand onto Silas' chest and slowly slides it up to his shoulder, using his shoulders to hoist herself onto his body, her legs wrapping around his waist. Now, she towered a full head above Silas.

Instinctively, Silas wraps his arms around Doreah's petite body, one hand placed on her lower back while the other held her just below her shoulders. It was strange, he didn't feel this need to pull away from her like before. He would have pushed her away at this point but at this moment, he didn't feel repulsed, her touch didn't remind of the bad things that he had to do. In fact, Silas felt something completely different, a need that seemed to control his entire body.

With her hand on his head, Doreah gently tugs at his hair, making him look up at her own dreamy gaze. Giving him one last smile, Doreah leans down and softly, almost cautiously, kisses Silas' lips.

Doreah stops for the briefest moment after sucking on his lower lip, pulling on it ever so slightly as she pulls herself away from Silas' mouth and held her forehead against his as she did moments before. Silas could feel her cool slow breaths against his skin, making his own body shiver at the contact. His own breath came out in a shallow tremble as his lips grazed just above her right breast as she held him close against her body.

Doreah moans in pleasure when he takes her nipple into his mouth and begins his slow savory assault, giving it a few swift flicks with his tongue and feathery kisses that make her nipple harden under his care.

"Silas." the handmaiden said breathlessly as Silas continued his ministrations to her breast in his mouth. He could hear her calling his name but he just couldn't stop doing what he wanted to her. His teeth softly skimmed the sensitive nipple as he felt her hands raise his head up to look at her.

"Fuck I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" He hastily apologized to her, worried that he didn't hear her protests to stop or did something that she didn't like. "I was being forceful, wasn't I? Did I hurt you?"

"No! No, not at all!" she assured him with a smile that made him relieved that he wasn't being forceful with her. "I wanted to tell you to move over by the rocks?"

Doreah cocked her head toward the wall of rocks where they placed their clothing on the top.

"What for?" Silas asked her curiously, causing Doreah to laugh lightly at his naivety.

Keeping her hands on each side of Silas' face and staring at him with her sultry blue eyes she answered his question. "So you have something to push me against."

Fuck  was all he could think as he stared back at her and realize the seriousness in her response. It was also what helped realize that this was moving too fast for him. He barely knew this woman, yet he was about to fuck her. Realizing this reminded Silas of his father, who fucked as many women as he wanted whomever he wanted, and it disgusted him every time he saw his father Philander with other women. Silas spent his entire life trying to not become his father, especially in this way yet now, seeing himself in the predicament he was in, Silas could see how strong the temptation is when it presents itself.

"Doreah, I think—"

"SILAS!" a familiar voice called out to the former Prince not too far in the distance. Before he could react, Ser Barristan came walking out of the brush and toward the riverbank when he found Silas.

"There you are lad!" the Knight called out with a relieved smile on his white-bearded face. "I thought you had gotten lost or…"

Ser Barristan stopped in his tracks when he noticed an embarrassed Silas and Doreah staring back at him. Seeing the two, he quickly turned around in his own embarrassment.

"Sorry," he apologized to the two. "Silas, you were gone for a while I thought something had happened so I decided to check up on you."

"No need to apologize Ser Barristan," Silas informed the Knight as he subtly moved away from Doreah who had dipped her body a bit further into the water and turned herself around to hide her laughter. In truth, he was a bit relieved that he had intruded on them. Silas feared that he would have gone further than he wanted and did something that he would have regretted.

"We were going to head back to the camp soon anyway, weren't we?" Silas asked as he grabbed his bath towel from the rocks and covered himself before walking out of the water, looking back to Doreah who silently nodded in agreement as she tried very hard to hide her smile.

"I'm sure you were," Silas heard Ser Barristan murmured the tease just loud enough for the two to hear when Silas passed by him. "Aside from checking on you, I was also requested to find Lady Doreah. The Queen was wondering where she had gone for so long. It might be a good idea not to keep her Grace waiting."

Doreah gave the old Knight a nod that she understood him.

"Don't take too long you two." Ser Barristan said as he made his way back on the dirt path that led back to the camp. Silas glared at the departing smirking Knight as he made his way to where his clothes remained.

When Ser Barristan left to return to the camp, Doreah stepped out of the water laughing at full volume.

"That was so close," Silas breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that Ser Barristan wouldn't tell the Queen what he saw but he knew that the Knight would give him a bit of a hard time over it.

"That was fun," Doreah giggled as she swam a bit before making her way to the river bank.

Instead of waiting for Silas to give her a chance for privacy, she made her way to her own clothes. Silas assumed that she would have waited or at least announce that she was going to exit the river to allow him to give her space to change as well as himself.

"Wouldn't you like some privacy, Doreah?" Silas asked her as he turned away from her nakedness.

"No," Doreah shook her head as she stretched her arms up to gather her wet hair to ring out the water, leaving nothing to hide as she passed by Silas. "I am perfectly fine dressing right here."

Silas remained unmoving as Doreah walked past him naked as if it was no big deal. She picked up her own bath towel and began drying off her body.

She glanced at Silas who remained unmoving and made it his mission to look anywhere else but at her naked form.

"You don't have to look away you know," She informed Silas, rolling her eyes at him. "We are both grown-ups here and it's not like we haven't already seen what each other has."

Silas glance back at Doreah, seeing that she was staring at him as she finished drying her body and hair. Seeing no way around it, he conceded and walked off to the nearby brush to finish drying and clothing his body.

"You know, for someone who has been with women before, you certainly act shy around them," Silas heard Doreah say when he slipped on a pair of braies and then his dark grey trousers and laced them to fit around his waist while he slid his feet into his boots one at a time. "especially with a woman you just bathed with."

"I didn't bathe with you!" Silas quickly responded from beyond the brush as he put on his dark blue cotton tunic and rolled the sleeves just past his elbows. "Remember, you came into the river after I did!"

Silas turned around when he heard Doreah coming toward him, feeling relieved that she was fully clothed this time.

"Say what you want Silas," she answered him back with a gentle pat on his side of his face. "You didn't seem to mind the company at all."

Silas was about to disagree when Doreah began making her way down the dirt path.

"Come on, we better get back to camp," she told him when she noticed that he wasn't walking with her.

Shaking his head, Silas sighed and jogged down the path to catch up with the handmaiden.

-

-

 

By the time Silas and Doreah made it back to the campsite, the sky had darkened to a dark navy blue with stars glistening around the bright full moon that illuminated the path they walked down.

Once they got to the clearing, the two parted ways with Doreah heading toward Daenerys' tent while Silas walked the opposite direction to his own tent not too far away beside Ser Barristan's.

Silas dropped his belongings off in his tent and exited outside just as Ser Barristan returned with four desert rabbits for supper.

"Had a nice bath?" Ser Barristan slyly remarked when Silas sat next to him and picked up a rabbit to skin.

Silas rolled his eyes and shook his head at the chuckling Knight. He knew this was coming.

"Nothing happened," Silas responded shortly, though it wasn't exactly the truth. Ser Barristan however, knew otherwise.

"Sure, nothing happened." the older Knight snickered with a knowing glance to the younger man as he skewered one of the rabbits and placed it over the fire. "Just two young people bathing together real close in a beautiful secluded area. Is that why you two were so close to each other?"

"That was all Doreah's doing," Silas defensively admitted to the amused Knight. "She snuck up on me while I was bathing."

After skewering his rabbit and placing it next to the other, Silas glanced at the snickering Ser beside him.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, what we were doing," Silas stated, rubbing his fingers through his hair as he did. "I tried to stop but Doreah…she can be a little-"

"Pushy." Ser Barristan finished the sentence for Silas, answering his former mentor with an agreeing nod. "I can tell. But maybe a little push is what you need."

"What now?" Silas asked in shock at what he heard the Knight say to him.

"Lad, I have known you all your life and I know that when it comes to girls, you are far too cautious it almost seems as if you are afraid of them. Also, I have seen you with Doreah and you look scared when she makes advances toward you."

"I wasn't…I'm not afraid of girls, and certainly not Doreah!" Silas responded back hastily, causing the Knight to chuckle at him. "I just...like to take things slow, is all."

"Aye, like a snail." The Knight chortled and handed Silas his wineskin he just opened up.

"Do you like her? Doreah?" Ser Barristan asked him, catching Silas off guard with the question.

"Well, I do enjoy her company," Silas said, which was the truth.

"But do you like her? Have feelings for her?" Ser Barristan asked again with more emphasis. "She seems to really like you."

"Of course she seems to like me," Silas chuckled as he took another swig of the wine and passed it back to Ser Barristan. "She used to work in a pleasure house. It's what she's been paid to do."

"Except she no longer works in a pleasure house and has never asked you for payment."

Silas opened his mouth to retort but closed it when he knew Ser Barristan was right.

"I can see you trying to make excuses to not pursue Doreah," the old Knight calmly stated. "What I can't seem to understand is why."

"It's just like I said before, I like to take things slow," the former Prince said to Ser Barristan. Silas picked up one of the cooked rabbits from the makeshift spit and passed it to Ser Barristan before getting his own.

"But you're not moving at all Lad." the old Knight chuckled. "You're missing out on a chance to be with a very lovely girl that seems to like you very much and you seem to like her too or else you wouldn't have let her in as much as she has."

"She's very persistent," Silas said before taking a chunk of meat from the cooked rabbit. he swallowed the chewed meat before continuing. "Besides, she is one of the Queen's handmaidens. I don't think Daenerys will be too fond of Robert Baratheon's spawn pursuing one of her handmaidens."

"Daenerys is protective of them, but she doesn't own them, lad," Ser Barristan retorted after taking a bite of his own rabbit. "She allows them freedom as any other person."

"What I am trying to say, Silas," Ser Barristan calmly continued. "You are not like your father nor am I saying to be like him. But if you care for someone…truly care for someone, then you should pursue them before it's too late. Don't let your worry keep you from living and loving."

Silas stared at the Knight. Now, it was his turn to see the older man frowning in the firelight. Silas understood what Ser Barristan was talking about. He had heard the tales that the famed Knight was love-struck by the beautiful Lady Ashara Dayne but did nothing about it because of his oath to the Kingsguard. When word of her suicide reached Ser Barristan, he mourned her in private. When he wasn't on duty, he would remain in seclusion in his chambers in the White Sword Tower.

-

-

For the next couple of hours, the two ate the remaining rabbits and finished off the wine before Ser Barristan stood up from the partially buried log he and Silas used as a seat and announced he was turning in for the night.

Bidding goodnight, the old Knight walked off to his tent, leaving Silas alone to his thoughts.

With time to himself, Silas made a quick trip to his tent and returned to the warm fire with one of his new books in his hand to read during this free time.

As soon as he settled back in his spot and began to read, Silas was instantly engrossed into the story and before he knew it a couple of hours had already passed and a quarter of the story had already been read.

Being so enthralled in the book, the former Prince didn't realize he had company.

"Must be a good story."

Silas quickly glanced his gaze away from the book to see who was talking to him in a rather loud voice and quickly jumped from his spot when he realized it was Daenerys standing across from him, looking at him with an arched brow.

"I called out to you a few times but you didn't respond."

"Your Grace," Silas greeted the young woman with a swift bow before sitting back down. "apologies, I didn't hear you arrive."

"There's nothing to forgive," she said as she sat beside him on the log, much to his surprise. "I have heard about people being absorbed in their books but you seemed to have been in another world."

"What can I say, it is a good story," he said with a small crooked smile.

"Sounds like it is," Daenerys commented, a small smile forming from the corner of her lips. Silas stared back at her with a confused look. "You read aloud. Don't only children read aloud?"

Silas nodded his head and gave the young Queen a small smile at her jest. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Had trouble reading as a child?" she asked him, assuming that was the reason.

"No," he sighed in response. "I had trouble speaking as a child."

"Speaking?" Dany repeated, receiving a nod of confirmation from Silas.

"When I was younger," he began. "I used to have a terrible stutter. So much so, saying a simple sentence became a challenge."

"That sounds frustrating," Dany told him. He could see the empathy in her expression as she gazed at him.

"Aye, it was." Silas agreed with her. He turned his eyes back to the dancing fire in front of him as he continued. "I wasn't the only one getting frustrated by it. My mother and father and anyone else I talked to would get impatient with me, especially my father. He would get angry with me, call me a simpleton and yell at me for wasting his time and to not talk to him unless I could learn to speak properly. Not exactly what a ten-year-old wants to hear from their father."

"That's a horrible thing for a parent to say to their child," he heard the young Queen say to him. "It seems like you have better control now. How did you manage to overcome it?"

Silas turned to Daenerys and lifted the book from his lap and held it up.

"By reading aloud."

"My uncle Tyrion, a very smart man, found ways to help me overcome this affliction and this was one of them," he began to explain to her. "Aside from reading out loud, singing was good practice as well as talking to myself in the mirror, which by the way was rather embarrassing to do even when I was alone—" Silas saw a hint of a smile on the young Queens lips that made him smile as well. "—he also had me read books in different languages to help get a rhythm when pronouncing the foreign words. So, not only was I able to eventually overcome my stutter I was able to learn a new language."

"I'm impressed," the young Queen told him, looking just as she said. "You turned an affliction to a learning experience."

"I just made the best of a bad situation is all." Silas retorted.

"We all seem to have to do that at some point in our lives," Daenerys said in a quieter tone. Silas could see the slight falter in her smile as she gazed briefly into the dancing fire before turning back to Silas.

"I had to make the best out my marriage to my late husband," Dany continued. For once she didn't have the serious expression that she usually had when talking to him but one of as if she was talking to a friend.

"To Khal Drogo," Silas remembered hearing about her marriage to the Dothraki Horselord during his tenure on the Small Council. The marriage had caused great concern amongst the other members, especially his father who went on his usual rant about the 'Targaryen Bitch' as he often called her, and demanded that another assassin to be hired to deal with her and her brother.

Daenerys gave a small nod to his question before carrying on.

"I loved him but not at first. My brother traded me off to Drogo to gain an army to take back the Seven Kingdoms. When I first saw my intended riding atop his horse in Pentos, he frightened me as he looked me over. He was this tall brawny leader of a savage race of killers who sacked cities and raped women and I was to be married to one of the most feared Khal of all."

Silas could see the hurt in her eyes as she spoke of her late husband. What he knew about the Queen's relationship with her late husband came from Doreah. The Handmaiden didn't tell him much only that Daenerys had a hard time adjusting to the new lifestyle at first and eventually learning to adapt to the Dothraki culture.

"It was difficult at first…being with my husband but once I learned to accept that this was my new life, I made it my mission to learn the language and culture and made the effort to love my husband. Eventually, I came to truly care for him and he loved me back."

"That's amazing," Silas commended Daenerys. "The Dothraki are not very accepting of other people yet you managed to gain the love and respect of one of its fiercest warriors. Then to lead your husband's horde after he passed away, that's a rare feat on its own."

As soon as Silas said the last sentence, he knew he said the wrong thing. Any friendly hint of an expression she had faltered to a frown. He wasn't too sure, but he could've sworn he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes once he mentioned her husband.

Those gorgeous round violet eyes glistened as her gaze lingered on him in the moment of silence between him and the young Queen.

"Forgive me, your Grace," Silas quickly apologized, feeling guilty for what he said. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Finally, she took a quick deep breath as she gained her composure and began to speak.

"No, it's fine," Daenerys assured him, but her expression told him otherwise as it remained the same. "A part of me will always love him and he will always have a place in my heart but I have mourned for him more than enough."

Silas was surprised, to say the least. Most women have a hard time recovering from a loss, even the men as well. He had seen it many times with the Lords and Ladies in court after being recently widowed. Daenerys was different than the other Highborn he knew. He could tell that she was indeed stronger than she appeared, to be able to take up the mantle as Queen and begin to lead the remainder of her late husband's horde right after his death. He couldn't tell if this strength came from being with her husband or if it was in her Targaryen blood, or maybe both.

"But I'm not the only one to suffer the loss of a loved one." Silas heard the young Queen say. "You had someone that you loved."

The former Prince understood what she meant. She must have heard the conversation between myself and Doreah.

"Mine was hardly a loss your Grace," Silas responded to her comment. "I ended the relationship with her and she is still very much alive."

"But it was still a loss nonetheless," the Queen countered. "It must have still felt terrible to end things with someone you loved."

She wasn't wrong. The days leading up to the conversation that would end his romantic relationship with Margaery Tyrell were the most difficult he had to endure, until the day he finally mustered up the courage to tell her. He hated himself more when she began to cry and pleaded with him in between her sobs. He assumed she would be upset even angry with him. Yell at him, curse at him, he expected her to do that, but never did he think she would cry. He comforted her as best as he could all the while he was trying his best to keep himself composed. Seeing how hurt she was brought tears to his own eyes and he could feel himself trembling from his own anger for making Margaery feel this way.

"Silas?"

The young man was brought back from his thoughts to see Daenerys still watching him, a look on concern appeared in her gaze.

"It was very difficult to deal with for a while," Silas answered back. "But my pain was nothing compared to what she must've felt. The way she took it…it wasn't the way I anticipated. I didn't think she would be so hurt."

"She was a young woman in love and you broke off the relationship. How did you expect it to end?" Daenerys inquired, sounding cross with his last statement.

"What I meant was that I didn't expect her to be so hurt because I knew she sought me out on purpose," Silas responded back. Seeing the puzzled look on Daenerys face, he elaborated further. "The girl I was with, Margaery was her name, she came from a very wealthy prominent family in Westeros that wanted to become more than just Wardens of the South. What better way than to marry off your children into the royal family?"

"It wasn't a coincidence that Margaery ended up getting lost and coming upon me in the gardens, alone." He continued while Daenerys listened intently. "I didn't know right away that she was trying to seduce me mind you, I was fourteen at the time and not very experienced with girls yet but when I eventually told my uncle of the encounter he told me of what he has heard about her, that she's as intelligent and cunning as she is beautiful and as she has been taken under the wings of her shrewd grandmother to be cautious of her."

"And were you cautious?" Daenerys asked him, seeing a tiny smile form at the corner of his mouth.

"I was at first," he told her. "Though, I wasn't doing it on purpose. I have always been told to be cautious from my mother who believed that everyone beyond our family was our enemy, but it was when it came from my uncle that I took it more seriously. To be honest, though, I was very shy around barely talked to her, she must have thought I was very rude or didn't like her, which wasn't true. I think it was around the second month of her stay that we finally had a full conversation that wasn't completely one-sided, and I came to realize we had much in common from sailing and horseback riding to our favorite authors and songwriters. Eventually, I let my guard down and before I knew it, I had fallen for her and I think she had done so with me."

"What makes you think that?" Dany inquired him some more. Her right brow arched in a playful skepticism of his assumption. She leaned a little towards him as she rested her arms on her crossed legs in a more relaxed position. "We women are hard to please."

"Just my intuition," Silas simply replied with a short chuckle as he scratched his lightly bearded chin. "as a person who grew up in Kings Landing, you tend to develop a keen sense of being able to tell who's lying, spot there tells and what not and while Margaery was very good at hiding hers, I was able to spot them though I never told her that I knew. As we became closer, I began to spot them less and less. She wasn't feigning interest or pretending to like me. In fact, she as if she was more relaxed when it was just the two of us, just like I was. With her, I could forget about all my problems. With her, I never felt happier."

Silas' gaze returned to the warm dancing flames as the thoughts of Margaery and his memories he shared with the gorgeous flower of Highgarden came flooding back to him. All were of great times that he cherished greatly from the girl he once loved. Thinking of them also made him remember the day he ended his relationship with Margaery and how terrible he felt breaking her heart as well as his own.

"I'm sorry, this became a very depressing conversation," Silas heard Daenerys apologize. He turned back to see with a smile on her sympathetic face. "This conversation started out about a discussion on a book and we ended up talking about our ill-fated relationships. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"It's okay," Silas assured her. "Like you, a part of me will always love her and she will always have a special place in my heart, but my time of mourning has long passed."

Silas could see the young Queen's expression lightened as she gazed back at him. It wasn't one of contempt or annoyance as her violet eyes had watched him since joining her army. As the fire between them danced, he couldn't help but notice how the light accentuated her gorgeous features. Daenerys was already breathtakingly beautiful but in this light, she appeared to exude beauty as if the firelight made her somehow glow.

"Is the book any good?" Daenerys pointed to the novel in Silas' hands. His transfixed emerald gaze broke away from her features, not realizing that he had been observing her in such a way until that moment. "You seemed very absorbed in the story."

Silas nodded his head and turned his gaze to the book cover. "Aye, it's a very good story."

"What is it about then?"

Silas opened the book and flipped through the pages.

"It's about the love between a young man and woman—"

"Pardon?" Daenerys disrupted with an amused smile. "You're reading a love story?"

Silas let out a little chuckle.

"Well, it's more of an epic war piece." He began to further explain the plot. "The young man is a Prince who falls in love with the young gorgeous Queen who is married to the King of a country whom he and his brother are negotiating a peace treaty with. The Prince smuggles her out her country, thus sparking a great epic war when the woman's husband calls to his brother, a powerful King, and amasses and a great army to attack the Prince's city."

"So, a great war broke out because a man's wife left him for her lover?" Daenerys responded with skepticism in her tone. "She must have been a great beauty if so many men were willing to die for her."

"Aye, she was considered the most beautiful woman," Silas retorted as he fiddled with the book in his hand. "She was described to be as gorgeous as their Goddess of love and beauty they worshipped. She had many suitors vying for her affections."

As Silas described the woman who sparked the story's epic war, unknowing to himself, began to describe the woman before him. When he did realize what he was doing, he quickly changed the subject and began talking about other characters and certain points in the story, most of which seemed eerily familiar to him.

"Do you think it was worth it?" Daenerys asked him when he finished. "To start a war over a woman?"

Silas couldn't tell if the conversation was still about the book.

"That depends, are we still talking about a made up story or the real thing?"

"Are both entirely different?" Dany answered him wryly.

Silas chuckled at her response. He had to admit, as much as he tried to prove the differences, there were indeed more comparisons than contrasts between the two events.

"Truthfully," he began when she nodded for him to proceed. "I think it was a war that began with two selfish men, much like the Prince and King in the storybook here." He tapped a finger atop the book cover. "Like the King, my father was a proud man who felt slighted when his beloved was 'kidnapped' by the Prince when he didn't realize that she didn't want to be with him in the first place."

"Then you have your brother Rhaegar," Silas continued on. "Much like the Prince in the story, whisked off with Lyanna Stark, knowing full well that she belonged to another, whether she wanted to be or not and knowing that this selfish act would have consequences that eventually cost him his life as well as the life of his wife and children."

"So you believe that because of the selfishness of both my brother and your father that nearly destroyed the seven Kingdoms?" she asked him. "I have to say, I'm very surprised that you're not prejudiced on the matter."

"Because of my father," Silas stated. "I don't care much for blind loyalty, to follow someone even though they are doing something wrong. Even when it came to my family I felt the same way, which is how I got to where I am now. For example, His hatred for you was uncalled for and we often butted heads on the matter because I refused to go along with it. I believe that the punishment shouldn't go beyond those who committed the crime. You did not slight my father and ran off with his betrothed nor did you kill Ned Stark's father and brother so why should you be punished for the crimes of those who did? I often told him that but he refused to listen and I ended up walking off angry when he commanded the small council to find an assassin to do the job."

"That was very kind of you to defend me so gallantly," Daenerys thanked him appreciatively. "I'm sure it must have been difficult to go against your own father."

"I only did what I thought was the right thing," Silas told her kindly with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I too know what it is like to be judged by other people because of your parents. People assumed I am a whore mongering entitled Prince who can do nothing more than drink and fight because my father was perceived that way. Believe me, it was a long time before people saw me as my own person and began to trust me."

"Do you think they will be able to trust me to be their Queen?" Dany asked him.

It was only brief, but Silas saw a hint of uncertainty in her violet eyes as she watched him. To be honest, he was kind of relieved that she felt that way. Not that he was glad she was worried but what it meant because for her to be fully confident that you could just take the Iron Throne and rule the entire continent of Westeros thinking the Lords and Lady's would simply bow down to her would be foolish and naïve to believe. No, she understood that it would be a difficult task, possibly impossible. Three hundred years of Targaryen rule wasn't easy to forget and half of the time, the Seven Kingdoms was ruled by a Targaryen went mad with the last one leaving a very lasting impression amongst the people of the Seven Kingdoms that will make it difficult to persuade the Lords and Lady's to follow Daenerys.

Silas turned his whole body away from the warm flames to face the young Queen sitting beside him. Unconsciously, he placed his hand over her own relaxing on her lap. The unexpected contact caused Daenerys to swiftly turn to Silas.

"I have no doubt that they will follow you in time." He told her confidently. "I'm not going to lie, it won't be an easy task getting the people to support you, but I promise Ser Barristan and I will try our best to make sure they see what we see."

"And what is it that you see?" Daenerys warmly queried inquiringly. A lighthearted grin graced her face.

Silas leaned himself closer her, leaving mere inches between himself and Daenerys as he stared back at her with intensity in his emerald gaze that, unknowing to him, made the young woman's heart beat a little faster as she stared into his eyes.

"What I see, is a young woman who has gone from a victim, used and abused by those closest to her for their own selfish gain, to becoming a strong powerful force to be reckoned with. I can see that every obstacle that you have had to overcome has shaped you into the strong woman I see before me." Silas stated confidently to her as his intense eyes continued to bore into Daenerys' own violet gaze. "I see a young woman who isn't just strong and powerful but kind and just as well who doesn't demand respect but earns it from her subjects. Seeing how you are with the formerly enslaved people of Astapor gives me comfort to know that you will care for the common folk and not just the Noble houses. You will not forget them as my father did and the many Monarchs before him. You will be a great Queen that the Seven Kingdoms deserves."

A moment of silence passed between the two when Silas realized he might have said more than he intended to the young woman when he noticed the stunned look on her face. Feeling the soft smooth touch of skin against his own course fingers made realize that he had touched her without her permission and quickly removed his hands from Daenerys' much smaller hands.

"Forgive me, your Grace," Silas hastily apologized as he put a little distance between himself and the young Queen. "I overstepped your boundaries."

"Apology accepted. I suppose I can forgive you this time for your indiscretion." Daenerys jested with a smirk.

Silas stood up and gave her a mock bow in return.

"Thank you, my Queen, for your oh so gracious pardon."

The two laughed at the playful exchange between themselves as Daenerys got up from the log seat and Silas, as a courtesy, did so as well.

"I was so distracted, I nearly forgot why I came out here in the first place," Daenerys began, catching Silas' attention. "I noticed that you and Doreah returned from the river together."

Silas felt his stomach drop when he heard the Queen's words. Slowly, he sat back down onto the log.

"Oh…um…," Silas mumbled trying to say something coherent only to have his words fumbling as he spoke. "I know what it must have appeared but-"

Daenerys held up a hand for him to stop talking. She didn't seem mad, nor did she seem happy at the situation.

"I spoke with Doreah and she told me everything…"

_ ‘Oh, fuck me!’ _ Silas thought to himself as he tried to keep his worry internal. Just what he needed, to be on the Queen's bad side when he was already here on a probationary basis.

"While I allow my Handmaidens as much freedom as they desire, I still feel an obligation to watch over them all. To protect them if need be. And Doreah is one of my oldest and dearest friends that has been with me since I was married off to Khal Drogo. She has been through as much as I have, possibly more being used for other men's pleasure and I don't want her to have to go through that again."

Silas nodded his head in agreement. He could understand that as he would have done the same for those under his protection.

"Which is why when I saw both of you returning to the camp together, I wasn't very pleased, to be honest." Daenerys continued. "After seeing both of you, I had assumed you were like your father when it came to women. However, Doreah confessed she initiated everything and that you, being the 'gallant man that you are' as she called you, politely declined. Because of that, you have shown me that you are an honorable man, Silas. Thank you for proving me wrong about you."

Silas was surprised, to say the least, he was sure that he was going to be reprimanded for what happened, for what he did, but Doreah chose to keep that to herself instead of telling her Queen the whole truth. While that was very kind of her to do, it didn't make him feel good that she put the entire blame on herself.

As she turned to leave, Silas got up again.

"Your Grace," He called out to Daenerys. The young Queen stopped in her tracks and turned back around to face Silas.

"Your Grace, I cannot in good conscience take your gratitude without you knowing the whole truth and allowing Doreah to take the full blame for what transpired." Silas began to say, watching as the young Queens stern violet eyes stared at him closely.

"While it was true that Doreah did come upon me and initiate what happened, I have to confess that in the spur of the moment, I did some things with her…to her as well, that I regret and when I realized what I was doing, I quickly stopped before anything more could happen."

Silas wanted nothing more right now than to look away from the young stern eyes bore into him but he remained unyielding as kept his emerald stare on the Queen's own violet glare.

"If anyone should take the blame it should be me." he paused a moment after that to take a deep breath. "I am not worthy of being called gallant, especially by your Grace, nor do I deserve it. Not when I have done something as to besmirch a Handmaiden of yours. If you wish to punish me, then I shall accept it but I only ask that you do not punish Doreah as well for protecting me. She doesn't deserve to be punished as well."

Silence passed between the two that felt like an eternity to Silas as he closely watched Daenerys' undecipherable expression.

Finally, she made the first move and walked up to him, as he expected. However, what he didn't expect was the smile that was growing on her face and finally a small fit of laughter.

"Your Grace?" Silas asked, very confused about what was going on.

"I know." She responded back. "I already know the truth, the whole truth."

"But you said that Doreah took the whole blame."

"She did," Daenerys confessed. "Or at least she tried to at first. When she noticed that I was none too pleased with you, she tried to protect you and say you didn't do anything to her. That's when I noticed she was lying. Doreah has this tell that lets me know when she isn't being truthful. When I called her on it, she ended up confessing the entire truth. She said that while you did indeed do those things to her, you stopped yourself before going any further with her."

"You're not angry with her?" Silas asked her.

"While I don't appreciate that she kept something from me, I understand that it came from somewhere noble, and I can appreciate that." Daenerys continued. "I also appreciate that you felt the need to tell me the truth. That indeed shows me that you can be trusted and I admire that in the people that I let in. The fact that you did so to protect Doreah also shows me that you are indeed a gallant man."

With the conversation over, Daenerys announced her leave and turned to head back to her tent.

"One more thing your Grace," Silas called out to Daenerys one more time. "If you knew the truth all along, why did you go through all this?"

Daenerys took a moment of her time before answering with a simple "I wanted to hear the truth from you. I'm glad to know you can be trusted."

Before Daenerys began to walk away one last time for the night she said to Silas "She really likes you, Silas. From this conversation just we had, I can see why."

The statement left Silas speechless as he remained as if frozen in his spot. What the young Queen said as she walked off caught him off guard as well.

"Treat her well, or you'll have me to answer to."

-

-

The next morning, Silas awoke in his bed feeling oddly…content, more so than he has since being freed. Nothing seemed any different than usual. Although, he did have a rather pleasing dream during the night of himself and a rather attractive woman. He couldn't remember her face or much of what happened. What he did remember was that she was petite against his own figure and had long blonde almost silvery colored hair that was always covering her face and she had the softest full lips that he kissed. As much as he enjoyed remembering those parts, he wished that he could remember her face as well.

Removing the thin blanket covering the lower half of his body, Silas got up and walked across the pathway of rugs to his clothes and dressed his bare body in the trousers and tunic he left out for himself last night before going to sleep.

Once his boots were on each foot, Silas exited the tent and took a moment to get used to the early morning rays from the bright sun. He could see the Unsullied patrolling around the camp in groups and the Dothraki women cooking the breakfast the men had hunted earlier.

Over by the fire pit, Silas spotted Ser Barristan eating his morning meal in silence and decided to join him.

"Morning," Ser Barristan greeted Silas as the younger of the two sat beside him and greeted him as well.

Ser Barristan offered Silas some of the food from a platter. Silas graciously accepted the fruit and some bread for his morning meal and downed it with the water from his waterskin.

"Had a nice chat with the Queen last night?" Ser Barristan casually asked, causing Silas to sputter the remaining water from his mouth.

"Pardon?" Silas coughed out the remaining water that he felt in his throat and wiped his drenched chin dry. "You were spying on me? I thought you were sleeping."

"I wasn't spying and I was asleep at first but I had to go take a piss when I heard you two talking and I didn't want to disrupt the conversation so I waited until you were done. From the sound of it, it sounds like you are on Daenerys' good graces now."

The older Knight gave Silas a congratulatory pat on the back.

"Aye, it only took nearly getting banished and someone covering for me to get it."

"Don't sully this boy. It is a victory for you. To have her trust is a great thing and that doesn't come easy. In fact, she spoke with me earlier this morning and told me to inform you that she wants you to be a part of her council meetings."

That came as surprise to Silas. He was pleased to hear that he was going to be a part of the meetings and contribute to her cause. He made a mental note to thank Daenerys the next time he saw her.

Speaking of thanking people, there was one more he needed to thank and saw her walking toward the river bank with a large water jug in hand. Her long silvery blonde hair glistened in the bright sunlight as it danced with every step she took.

"I need to go fill my skin," Silas told the older Knight as he got up from his seat.

"Sure you do," Ser Barristan chuckled as he watched the younger man walk off to the river.

-

-

When Silas made it to the river, he could see Doreah knee deep in the water as she filled the jug she carried with her.

Noticing that Doreah was having a little trouble carrying the heavy jug of water back to the bank, Silas quickly came in and helped her catch the jug before it fell.

"Thank you," Doreah responded to his kind gesture. Seeing the startled look on her face, Silas took it that she was not expecting to see him. "This floor is not as stable as I thought."

"Well, I'm glad I was here to help. Although, I should be thanking you instead." Silas told her as he moved the jug into a more comfortable position in his arms. "Because of you and your glowing recommendation, it seems my probation has been lifted and I have been made officially a member of the Queen's council."

"That's great!" Doreah exclaimed and gave him a hug. "But I had nothing to do with it. That was all you."

"Well, you spoke so highly of me to Daenerys that it helped me immensely."

"I only told her the truth," Doreah humbly stated.

"Even at the cost of your trust?" Silas responded back. He glanced at the Handmaiden to see her cheeks slightly reddening.

"You know, you didn't have to lie to her for my sake."

"I know I didn't. I just…"

Doreah stopped midway, both in speech and walking. Taking notice, Silas stopped as well and turned to face her. Silas could see she was being timid, something that he didn't even know she could be. Doreah has always seemed so confident with herself yet now here she was, not even able to look up at him and give him an answer.

"I just…I just didn't want you to get in trouble for what I started. Dany wasn't pleased when she saw you with me and when she started asking me if you were coming on to me…I don't know…I didn't want you to get in trouble when you didn't do anything."

"But I did, Doreah."

"I mean nothing that I didn't want you to do," She rephrased her statement. "Silas, if anything, I should be the one apologizing. I didn't realize how much of an idiot I was until I thought about it last night how I was forcing myself on you when you are clearly not interested in me."

Silas felt terrible, even more so when he noticed just how embarrassed she was. He didn't want her to think that he didn't like her, that wasn't his intention at all. She had come on to him so aggressively he didn't know how to respond. Ser Barristan was right about him, he was slower than a snail when it came to girls.

"That's not it Doreah," Silas said to her as he shook his head. "That's not why I stopped."

"Of course it is," She exclaimed. "I mean why would you be interested in me? I was a whore before I was bought for Dany and I still did favors for others after I became her handmaiden. I guess that still makes me one, doesn't it? If I were you, I wouldn't want to be with someone who has been used by many men."

Doreah tried to walk off, wiping tears that welled up in the corners of her glistening blue eyes, but Silas stepped in front of her to keep her from walking off.

"You think that's what I care about?" Silas softly asked her.

"Why not? You were born a Prince. You were meant to marry a Highborn girl and you loved a Highborn girl. Why would you ever be interested in a whore turned Handmaiden?"

Silas sighed. He didn't realize how insecure Doreah was about her past. He didn't even think to take her emotions into account. He felt selfish in thinking about himself and his reputation with the Queen he didn't realize he was hurting Doreah's feelings without proper explanation on his part.

When Doreah began to walk away, Silas stopped her once more by gently holding her arm back.

"Doreah," he called out to her. She didn't turn to face him but remained still to know that she was listening. "It's not you, I promise."

"What is it then?" She asked him, finally turning around.

"It's me." Silas paused a moment, trying to find the proper words to say. "I have many reasons why I am the way I am when it comes to girls. At first, it was because I was afraid of becoming like my father, overindulging in the pleasure of women that weren't my mother and I saw how angry and hurt it made her when she would see those women leave my father's chambers. My mother would always say I was like him and it wasn't much of a compliment. So made a promise to myself that I wasn't going to bed just any woman and that I would wait until the one I loved or at least the one I was to marry came around."

Silas paused a moment and closed his eyes as he let out a few deep breaths. He wasn't very fond of remembering the next part he was about to tell.

"Then, when I was sold into slavery…I had no choice in the matter anymore." Silas paused again. He could feel a knot tightening in his stomach as he continued to force himself to remember. "My first time and the times after were not the most…pleasant experiences. My first time with a woman was done in front of my Master and a group of his party guests. They were drunk…and very amused at what they saw. I could hear them making bets at how long I could last. I don't what was worse, them throwing wine on me and making their lewd jokes or them getting off at watching me fuck some woman that made me feel like I was raping her and the other poor women they paired me with. Maybe it was the part that this was all out of my control."

Silas could see Doreah's sympathy for him on her face. If anyone understood what he felt, it would be Doreah.

"Silas, I am so sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Silas reassured her as placed the jug down on the sand. He gently held her with both of his hands on her slender arms. "It's not your fault. If anything, you are helping me cope with what I had to do, making me more comfortable with all this."

Silas slid his hands down Doreah's arm until he felt her fingers and intertwined them with his own. He raised them up to his lips and gave her knuckles a soft chaste kiss.

"If you give me time and we take things slow, I would like to try and make this work."

Doreah didn't say anything but the smile on her face was a good enough answer for him as was her coming closer and stood on the tips of her toes to stand a bit taller, eyes closed and lips puckered just so.

With a smile at her acceptance, Silas lowered his head, closing the gap between himself and Doreah and met her lips with a slow tender kiss. Doreah broke away, a small breath escaped her parted lips as Silas kissed her again, this time on her cheek.

"I think I can agree to these terms," Doreah muttered his ear, making Silas chuckle and embrace her tightly.

With one last kiss, he released her to carry the heavy jug of water in one hand while holding out his other arm for Doreah to take and together, walked back to the campsite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have decided to wait until I do a full-blown lemon scene because I don't want to feel like I am rushing the relationship between Silas and Doreah as well as the eventual relationship between Silas and Dany.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter and as usual, if you have any questions or comments please feel free to message me or leave a review and I will respond as soon as possible.


	5. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title suggests, alliances are being made, some with more risk than some would bargain for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys MadTargaryen here with a new chapter of The Other Prince for you and I hope you enjoy it.

 

**The Other Prince**

 

**CH.5**

 

**Allies**

 

 

** Olenna Tyrell, Kings Landing **

                The cold salty sea swept through the gorgeous array of flora that grew in the gardens of the Red Keep, sending a shiver through the old body of the Queen of Thorns as she walked down one of the many cobblestone pathways that mazes through the Keeps gardens.

                Looking up at the midday sky, Olenna only saw darkening clouds rolling high above her, hiding the blue sky and bright yellow sun. A storm was coming, and it was coming fast. She could already smell the rain in the wind. A change was in the air and it was becoming more apparent as the days passed. The white ravens had been sent out from the Citadel, letting the Lords and Lady’s know that the decade long summer was coming to an end and winter would soon be on its way.

                Another shiver went through the old woman and it wasn’t from the wind this time. A long summer meant an even longer winter, that saying played in her mind many times since she and her family received word about the ending of summer. Winters were already harsh, especially to her family who rely heavily on agriculture for income. This war was already taking plenty of their products that could be used to store away for the long days ahead. If the war continues any longer, she feared they wouldn’t have much to save for the winter if any was left at all.

                Adjusting the green and gold shawl on her shoulders, the Matriarch of house Tyrell continued through the garden.

                The further she went in, the less populated and dense the garden became. The flora around her seemed to be growing wilder and unkempt.  The groundskeepers don’t come this far since no one goes this way. Well…almost no one.

                It had been a while, but Olenna knew that she was going the right way. She might be old but her memory was still as good as ever. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about her legs and hips. The ornately designed wooden cane helped a great deal but it was still difficult for her to walk for long periods of time. She only wished that where she was going wasn’t so far from the Keep. Margaery had once again disappeared from her chambers and it was up to her to find her granddaughter and she knew just where to go.

                The pathway darkened as Olenna continued through the abandoned part of the gardens. The hedges grew taller and thicker, nearly blocking out all the light from the cloudy sky. As she continued, she began to smell a familiar beautiful scent and her eyes caught sight to the wall on her left.

                The wall was covered in vines that crawled in all directions. The vines were dotted with buds that twisted up to the tip that she instantly identified as the buds of moonflowers. A very beautiful and intoxicating flower that only blossomed at night, hence the name. She was indeed going the right way and followed the buds down the cobblestone path.

                After walking for a few more minutes, she came to a stop that led her to a dead end of a wall covered in a thick layer of unkempt vines growing freely in all directions. However, the Queen of Thorns knew better than to believe this farce and proceeded to swipe aside the vines, revealing a stone door that camouflaged well with the surrounding wall. It was surprisingly light given that it was stone, even a thin layer, and pushed it open revealing a courtyard separate from the rest of the gardens of the Red Keep.

                It had certainly seen better days when Silas oversaw the upkeep, Olenna thought to herself as she looked around at the now abandoned courtyard. This place was not known to many, just one of the many secret places dotting the Red Keep created by the Targaryens. She only knew about it after catching her granddaughter leaving it and soon followed by the late Prince years before.

                It was certainly a beautiful courtyard when she remembered it. The grass was green and trimmed with colorful flowers dotting the ground and the pond in the center was filled with clear water and lily pads with pink flowers floating on top. Now, it was nothing but dirt and a dried-up hole where the water used to be and the walls that bordered the courtyard were cracked and the beautiful mural painted on one side of the wall faded to the point where it could barely be seen. It was certainly sad to see this place in such a state of disrepair.

                Moving her gaze to her right, Olenna caught sight of who she was looking for.

                Margaery either didn’t know or didn’t care that she wasn’t alone anymore but she remained seated on a chair, next to one of the many archways on that side of the wall that looked out to the ocean a small round table and another chair on the other side. The Queen-to-be kept her back turned to her grandmother as she looked out at the vastness of the grey ocean ahead of her, her head resting on the palm of her hand and had her arm propped on the table next to her.

                “I thought you would be here,” Olenna said to her granddaughter announcing her presence.

                Margaery barely turned her head to acknowledge her grandmother before fixing the shawl wrapped around her shoulders and returning her gaze back to the scenery before her.

                Olenna let out a sigh before shaking her head and walking over to Margaery, taking the seat on the other side of the table.

                “You might not want to be gone for so long the next time you decide to sneak away.”

                Margaery only shrugged in response to her grandmother’s presence. Olenna wouldn’t normally take that kind of response from anyone, not even her granddaughter but she made an exception this time. She understood that Margaery was in pain. She remembered how much she was in love with Silas. She also remembered how angry and heartbroken Margaery was when he ended the relationship between them. It was she that consoled Margaery during that period and when it was over, she had thought Margaery had moved on, even saying that she and Silas were still good friends. But seeing her granddaughter’s reaction when she told her the grievous news about Silas confirmed that Margaery had never gotten over him. It honestly broke Olenna’s heart seeing her granddaughter so distraught. She never realized just how much in love Margaery was with the late Prince until that moment.

                Even days after Silas’s funeral, Margaery wasn’t acting like her usual self. She became more reclusive and absent from certain family gatherings. She even missed a few meetings with the royal family, which is why Olenna went searching for her in the first place. As much as she wanted her granddaughter to grieve, they, unfortunately, didn’t have that kind of luxury.

                “Your presence was requested to join the King for noon supper,” Olenna said as she relaxed into the seat. “Because you weren’t there, we had to lie to the King’s emissary and tell him you were out tending to the children in the orphanage. I told him that you will meet him for evening supper to make up for earlier.”

                “Sorry grandmother,” Margaery apologized but it didn’t feel sincere. It didn’t feel like it had any emotion to it. “I just…lost track of the time.”

                “Dear, this has to stop,” Olenna tells Margaery with a sigh.  “You have to be present when the King calls upon you. If not all our plans will be-”

                “I know.” Margaery shot back, her tone much harsher than she meant it to be. “But I can’t just turn off my emotions. I can’t just move on.”

“You must Margaery.” her grandmother replied. “As much as you wish it, Silas is not coming back.”

“I know that!” Margaery loudly replied to her grandmother, this time getting up from her seat and walking to the ledge returning her gaze back to the ocean. Her arms crossed at her chest as she looked out at the sea in front of her. “You keep telling me to move on and I have tried. I have already married one man for my family and now I am betrothed to another for my family again. I have tried to forget Silas, but I can’t.”

Tears began to well up in the corner of her eyes as the emotions she kept bottled up finally came out.

                Olenna watched her granddaughter breakdown into sobs. It pained her to see Margaery like this, heartbroken and shattered. She didn’t realize just how much she was hurting. Margaery was a talented actress and was gifted at concealing her emotions, even to her own grandmother who taught her so well that she managed to fool Olenna into thinking that she was all right when in fact, she was completely devastated.

                Olenna knew this was now not the time to be a mentor but a grandmother and took Margaery’s hand into her own.

The action caused Margaery to turn to her grandmother, her eyes red and watery still as she looked at the elderly woman next to her.

“My dear, I am so very sorry.” Lady Olenna gently stated to Margaery as she tenderly caressed her granddaughter’s hand. “I never realized how much pain you are in right now.”

Olenna moved closer to her granddaughter.

“I know Silas was a good young man and that he cared for you very much. I also know that he wouldn’t want you to be like this. To continue to mourn for him as you have been doing. He would be devastated to know that he is the cause of your pain and want you to move on.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left!” Margaery shot back and snatched her hand away from her grandmother’s grasp.

Margaery fell back into her chair. Her right arm propped on the armrest while her hand covered a portion of her weeping face.

“My dear, that wasn’t his decision.” Olenna calmly responded back. “That was his punishment for trying to take the crown from his brother.”

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Margaery shook her head. “We went against the crown as well. I was married off to Renly and now I am betrothed to Joffrey. Why weren’t we punished for our treason? Silas was flesh and blood to Joffrey and Cersei and yet they sent him away to die for taking what is rightfully his while we were spared.”

“I will not even try to assume I know what goes on in that mind of Cersei’s and even more so of her monster of a son.” Olenna moved in ever closer to her granddaughter, placing a hand on Margaery’s forearm to gain her full attention. “But as a mother, I know that I would do anything to make sure that my family was safe. Anything at all from the dangers that could harm my family.”

Margaery stared at her grandmother, not sure what to say in response to her grandmother’s statement.

“Cersei is a dangerous woman and even more so if we were to give her any inclination that you are not worthy to marry Joffrey.” Olenna continued. Her voice lowered to a quieter level as if thinking that someone could be watching them. “And if we want to continue with this betrothal, we must act like we are on her side. All of us.”

Olenna stared at her granddaughter, hoping she could see the seriousness of their situation.

“Do you want to continue this betrothal?” Olenna asked her granddaughter. “We are so close to you becoming Queen but if you can’t move on past Silas and remain loyal to Joffrey, tell me now before we go any further.”

Margaery was silent for a moment, contemplating the situation and the choice given to her. No doubt she thought she had no choice but to still marry Joffrey at this point.

Finally, the younger of the two spoke up.

“I always wanted to be the Queen,” Margaery said calmly, tears no longer streaming down her frowning face. “I only thought it would be with the man I love.” She let out a brief sigh and turned to her grandmother. “I suppose we can’t have everything.”

With those words, Margaery stood up and adjusted the shawl wrapped around her bare shoulders.

“We better go if we want to make it to supper on time.” Margaery wiped away the tears streaks on her flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to disappoint my future family.”

Olenna nodded and gave her granddaughter a small smile before getting up herself, using her cane for assistance and the two made their way back to the Red Keep.

The return to the Keep was a quiet one, except for a few Lords and Lady’s greeting them as they passed by them in the gardens. Margaery put up a smile and bright happy expression that surprised Olenna at how good she is at changing her emotions considering how distraught her granddaughter was earlier. She had to admit that she did a good job at teaching Margaery how to act. Maybe too good a job. 

As they made their way to the apartments in the keep, the two women suddenly stopped when they caught sight of a figure coming toward them from the opposite end of the corridor they walked through.

“Lady Olenna. Lady Margaery.” said the effeminate Lord Varys as he walked towards the two women. He gently shook their hands as he greeted them both. “It is a pleasant surprise to see you both here and not eating with King Joffrey and the royal family.”

“We are about to head over,” Margaery replied with a sweet smile. “I just need to freshen up a bit before dining with the King.”

“Of course.” The Eunuch nodded. “You would not want to keep the King and his mother waiting. However, might I have a word with you, my Lady?” Varys turned to the older of the two women. “It will be for but a moment.”

Margaery looked to her grandmother with an uncertain look that didn’t dissipate right away after Olenna told her to go on ahead without her.

Reluctant, Margaery bid farewell to Lord Varys and departed alone to her family’s quarters to get ready for the evening engagement.

“She’s been crying, hasn’t she? The poor girl.” Olenna heard Varys say as the two watched the Queen-to-be walked out of sight. “No doubt spending time in that secret courtyard? I doubt those tears are for the orphans you claimed she visited?”

Olenna turned to the Master of whispers with a cynical look on her wrinkled face.

Varys look back, an eyebrow arched on his smooth brow. “Are you really surprised?”

Olenna Tyrell rolled her eyes as she moved to the large window and sat on its sill. Of course, he knew the truth. Varys has yet ceased to amaze her on his knowledge of everyone’s secrets.

“What is it that you want Lord Varys?” The elderly Lady sighed. “Other than to tell me you caught me in an obvious lie? Are you going to run off to the Queen and let her know that my granddaughter was secretly mourning the death of the late love of her life? To expose that Margaery is still in love with Silas rather than Joffrey? God knows Cersei is looking for a way to break the betrothal.”

A smirk formed on the perfumed Eunuch’s round face.

“Is that what you think of me, my Lady? A sneak who tells the Queen everything my little birds report to me?”

“You are the Master of Whispers, are you not? What is it that you say? Oh yes, that knowledge is your trade.”

Varys smiled a closed smile and let out a little chuckle that vibrated in his throat. “Indeed, it is. Enemy secrets can be a dangerous weapon if in the wrong hands. As any good trader, I know whom to give my products to when the right buyer comes along but rest assured Lady Olenna, you and your granddaughter’s secret is safe with me. I will not tell a soul.”

“How very kind of you Lord Varys.” the elderly lady smiled at the bald eunuch. “However, I can’t help but feel there is a catch to this act of kindness. Tell me how much gold will it take ensure your silence?”

“It’s not gold I want.” The spider said in mild amusement at the Tyrell Matriarch’s distrust of him. “But rather…an alliance.”

“An alliance?” Lady Olenna repeated Varys’ words with a surprised tone in her voice. “My Lord Varys, are you admitting to treason against your King?”

“Treason is a term used very loosely. Especially when used by Cersei Lannister.” Varys replied to Olenna’s question. “Cersei deemed what her eldest son and Ned stark had done was treasonous and branded them both traitors even though the throne was rightfully returned to Silas.”

The smirk that had been on her thin lips faltered. Everyone had found out what Silas had done but nobody knew that he was only claiming what was returned to him.

“Yet you are loyal to Cersei and the boy King.” She retorted back. “You swore your allegiance to them.”

“You and your family did as well if I recall that day in the throne room after the battle of Blackwater.” Varys swiftly countered back at the Queen of Thorns. “After all the information my little birds have told me about you and your family, I have come to realize that you are no more loyal to the Lannisters than I am. Which makes you a prime addition. I need people like you, my Lady.”

“For what?”

Varys seemed to be expecting that question and answered it instantly.

“To make this country a better place.”

Lady Olenna stared at him in silence, not sure what to say or to think of this until finally, she found the words to say.

                “How are you planning on doing this?”

                “I am afraid I cannot answer any more questions beyond what I have already answered. If you want to know more, you must agree to the alliance and if not then you can forget this conversation ever happened and be on your way to dine with the royal family.”

                “Do you really expect me to give an answer with so little assurance?” She asked him.

                “I expect you to trust my intentions for doing this and hoping that you want to do what is good for your family and the realm.”

                Lady Olenna thought about this for a moment. Her family had already defied the King once and got off lucky and now we're one step closer to getting the crown. Something told her that the Spider was not working to make her granddaughter Queen if it meant taking down the current royal family but to place someone else on the Iron Throne. The question was who.

                So many questions that needed answering and they were within her grasp. All she has to say is yes. Yes to committing treason once again to a very dangerous family.

                Returning to the perfumed man in front of her, Lady Olenna cleared her throat ready to give her answer.

 

**xXx**

 

**xXx**

** Silas Baratheon, Slavers Bay **

Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of Silas’ glistening face and trailing down his bare torso. His emerald eyes focused on the opponent before him as he brandished the swords in each of his hands.

Ser Barristan carefully watched Silas for any sudden changes while keeping a good distance between himself and the younger man as he protected himself with a round metal shield with his left hand and his sword at the ready in his right.

Sitting a few feet away from the trunk of a fallen tree, Doreah and Daenerys watched the two men circle each other defensively while Missandei and Ser Jorah stood close to the young Queen.

Silas suddenly took the offensive and charged at Ser Barristan, swinging his swords down in a circular motion that met Ser Barristan’s shield with a metallic clank.

Even in the Knight’s much older age, Ser Barristan was able to block and parry the younger man’s swift and powerful swings.

Ser Barristan quickly swung his sword back at Silas when he caught an opening when he managed to hold one of Silas’ sword with his shield. However, Silas reacted with enough time to block the move with his other sword before Ser Barristan could smack his side with the weapon.

After slashing downward, Silas swung the pair of swords to the left at Ser Barristan only to once again be blocked by the shield. While one sword covered him, Silas swung his other at the older Knight.

Ser Barristan met Silas’ sword with a loud metallic clunk that pushed both men back a few steps.

The small crowd that formed around the two men watched in awe at the fast fluid movements the two fought and in amusement at the banter between the men. What had started as a simple sparring session turned into a playful exhibition between two great warriors. It was a spectacle that shouldn’t be missed.

Silas brought his sword above his head and back down on a crouching Ser Barristan who took his shield and covered his head and swung his sword at the former Prince only for him to parry the blow and quickly stood up to a full stance.

The older man slashed his sword to the side, narrowly missing Silas who ducked before the sword could hit him. Ser Barristan double backed, this time the younger man blocked the swing with his sword and pushed it up and leaving Ser Barristan open for attack. However, the Knight managed to recover and before Silas could strike him, he brought the heavy metal shield down hard and fast on to the ground, forcing Silas to roll out of the way rather than get hit in the head and put a good distance between him and the Knight.

The two laughed at each other and the and the apparent stalemate that they keep getting themselves into and continuously dueling with each other, hoping either makes a mistake yet both are being stubborn.

Both men relaxed a bit to catch their breaths while keeping a distance between them.

“I have to admit for an old man, you still manage to hit like a hammer.” Silas chuckled and shook his right hand to calm the aches that throbbed from the constant hard impacts from blocking Ser Barristan’s strikes.

“Aye, and you finally managed to learn to keep your guard up.” The Knight smiled. “But just barely.”

The two continued to circle each other again, this time weapons at the ready to resume the sparring session.

Silas spun the swords in his hands and got into his fighting stance waiting on Ser Barristan to strike.

Ser Barristan charged at him. Shield blocking his left shoulder and crouched just enough to cover what needed as he swung his sword horizontally at Silas’ torso.

Silas managed to stop the sword from making contact with his bare torso by catching the blade between his own two swords and slide the blades, including Ser Barristan’s own, down as he himself crouched down onto the dirt on one knee, taking Ser Barristan down as well.

For but a moment the two remained at the same height as they kept each other down on the ground until Silas swung both swords and the captured sword upward above his head in a circular motion.

Ser Barristan managed to free his sword once they both got up and spun around, swiftly swinging the blade at Silas. The former Prince saw the move coming and blocked it with one of his own swords and swung again at a higher point this time, but his sword was met again with the hearty metal clash of Ser Barristan’s sword.

Silas had to admit, the old man still had a lot of fight in him despite his age. The former commander of the Kingsguard was still just as fast and strong when he was teaching Silas to fight when he was younger. The older man kept Silas on his toes, turning the tables on him and forcing the younger man to keep blocking rather than attacking him. A few times the Knight had managed to strike him, often because of the counter riposte that the Knight would use unexpectedly as he did at this moment.

Ser Barristan swung his sword at Silas or at least pretended to strike him. Before the gleaming metal sword could make contact with the younger man, Ser Barristan pulled the weapon back just as Silas had raised his own. The Knight raised his shield to cover himself from Silas’ incoming blades. With both swords on the shield, Silas was left open for attack and with quick succession, Ser Barristan slashed Silas on his side.

Silas hunched over in pain at the strike he received. Luckily for him, the swords had dulled edges for training but still hurt like hell when hit with enough force.

Silas lifted his arm so to see the place where Ser Barristan had hit him. Already his side had begun to bruise to a dark purple color on his suntanned skin.

Looking forward at Ser Barristan, a smile formed on his lips as he and the Knight circled each other, signaling that he was alright.

Ready to strike, Silas charged at Ser Barristan and thrust his right sword forward.

The Knight slammed his shield down on the incoming sword, forcing the blade down hitting the dirt. He was about to swing his weapon until Silas used his strength to lift his own sword from underneath the heavy shield.

Ser Barristan slashed his sword in an upward motion at Silas only for the former Prince to immediately block the attack. The Knight used his strength to bring Silas’ weapon down and he did a little but Silas managed to break away.

The old Knight pushed his blade at Silas again, but the younger man sidestepped out of the way, his body narrowly missing the weapon by inches and parried it away from him while also swinging his other sword at Ser Barristan who managed to block the swing with his shield and cover his head from the blow.

Silas managed to push enough force onto the shield to make the Knight stumble from the weight.

Ser Barristan charged back at him once he got his footing and covered his chest with the shield and raised his sword at Silas as he ran at him.

Silas sidestepped as both swords met above the two men. With the Knight focusing on the sword, Silas took this advantage and used his other sword arm to swing around and push Ser Barristan forward and smacking him on the back of the head with the flat of his blade as he did so.

Ser Barristan stood back up after stumbling to the ground, rubbing the back of his head where Silas hit him. He stared back at the younger man with a pained yet amused expression on his old face.

Shaking his head a bit, Ser Barristan got back to his fighting stance, ready to continue with the match.

 “Should we stop Ser Barristan?” Silas smirked as he twirled the swords in his hands. “You look to be slowing down a little. Are you getting tired?”

“How’s that side of yours?” Ser Barristan replied with a low chuckle and pointed his sword at Silas’ darkening bruise before taking another fighting stance showing that he is still capable of continuing the sparring session.

“Feels like a flea bite.” The former Prince retorted with a smile as he too returned to a fighting stance and raised his swords back up.

Ser Barristan stepped forward and swung the sword at Silas. The younger man blocked it quick enough but had to arch his body back when Ser Barristan swiped his shield at Silas’ head, narrowly missing the side of his head. Silas ducked again to avoid the older Knight’s quick swipes and stood up straight to parry the next swing of Ser Barristan’s sword with one hand and punched him in the nose with the other hand.

The jab wasn’t too hard, nothing the older man couldn’t take. Ser Barristan stumbled back a few steps before falling to the ground. Removing his hand from the throbbing nose, a trickle of blood could be seen trailing down from the left nostril.

Silas trudged to the Knight, his sore chest heaving from the labored breaths of his tired body.

The former Prince raised one of his sword arms and swung at Ser Barristan. The Knight turned around just in time to block the attack and swing at Silas, causing the younger man to jump back and give the older man time to get his defense up.

Silas quickly returned bringing down swing after swing onto Ser Barristan’s shield and sword that he kept up for protection.

With his quick thinking, Silas used his swords like a pair of pincers catching the swinging shield and twisted it away from Ser Barristan, the force causing Ser Barristan to fall on his back.

The Knight managed to roll out of the way when Silas brought his sword down onto the dirt.

Getting up from the ground, Ser Barristan ran at Silas, ready to swing at the former Prince when he got close enough.

Instead of aiming for the fast-approaching sword, Silas punched Ser Barristan’s upper arm, causing the Knight to drop the weapon onto the ground.

Not even fazed by the lack of a weapon, Ser Barristan swung a fist at Silas, barely missing the younger man’s face. Each swing of his fists made Silas jump back, forcing the former Prince to constantly change his footing.

Silas ducked forward when he got the chance. Seeing an opening, he got his sword and swept Ser Barristan’s leg, causing the Knight to lose his footing and fall to the ground with a thud and a small cloud of dust covering him.

The Knight got up to his knees and took deep resounding breaths as his body swayed from left to right.

Silas held him with a firm grasp on his shoulder to keep him in place while also placing the sword’s dulled point down between the older man’s shoulder and neck.

Tired and at a disadvantage, Ser Barristan raised his right hand and with two fingers pointed up, he consented to the defeat.

The small crowd erupted to applause and laughter. Even Ser Jorah had a faint hint of a smile on his face as he watched the match between the two men he did not particularly like hit and beat each other bloody.

Silas helped Ser Barristan up from the ground when he noticed the Knight slightly struggling to get back on his feet.

“Are you all right?” Silas asked as he held onto the Knight.

“Oh aye.” Ser Barristan answered with a weary smile. “It’s been a long time since I had a proper sparring session. I’m afraid to say that I have let myself go a little.”

“Could’ve fooled me old man.” Silas chuckled as he patted the man on the back. “That hit you gave me after that last counter riposte you used to throw me off really hurt.” Silas raised his right arm again and looked down to his side where the bruise had grown and the dark purple ever more prominent on his skin.

“My strong warrior!” Silas heard a familiar voice that made him and Ser Barristan turn around just in time to see Doreah unexpectedly leap into the younger man’s arms.

Silas let out a sharp pained hiss as the gorgeous handmaiden collided into his sore body.

“I’m sorry!” she apologetically giggled as she gently pressed her hand on to the sore spot on the side of his torso. He had to admit, her soft touch felt nice.

“It’s fine.” He smiled back a crooked smile and placed a hand over hers still placed on his throbbing side. His hand practically covered her much smaller softer hand. “Your touch makes me feel much better.”

Her face beamed at his words and her beautiful bright sapphire eyes widened in shock as Silas slid his free hand to the small of her back and pushed her closer to his bare torso.

As he leaned down a little, Doreah gladly took the hint and stepped on the tips of her toes to reach up and kiss his ever slightly puckered lips.

Silas felt Doreah break away from the kiss for but a moment and took a breath before returning to him. He could feel his heart racing his chest as he leaned back down to recapture her full pink lips with his own.

Since the talk they had a while back, Silas had made immense improvements in showing his affections. It was a slow process but an improving one, nonetheless. Showing her more affection in public like this was becoming second nature to him. They have even begun to share a bed occasionally upon his insisting, though all they do is sleep, much to Doreah’s silent disappointment. She does, however, enjoy the fact that he unconsciously cuddles up to her while they sleep as she often finds herself being wrapped in his arms when she wakes up in the mornings. 

“Well fought you two.” Silas heard another familiar voice.

Quickly he and Doreah pulled away from each other to act more professional as Daenerys Missandei and Ser Jorah walked over to the three of them. A light-hearted smile showed on the young Queen’s beautiful face as she made her way to them.

“I have to admit after the two of you spar makes me really appreciate my decision to naming you, Ser Barristan, as the commander of my Queensguard.” Ser Barristan smiled behind the thick white beard of his at the praise he was given. “Even in the face of a much younger opponent, you managed to fight him for as you did and that is commendable to a man your age.”

Ser Barristan bowed to her with a smile. “Thank you, your Grace!”

Daenerys then turned her attention to Silas as he had one arm wrapped around Doreah’s waist and she did the same to him.

“As for you, I have to say I am a little disappointed.” The young Queen said with a fake dissatisfied expression on her face. “I would have thought a man who single-handedly fought off six men would have no trouble taking on a man at least twice his age.”

Everyone including Silas laughed at the jest the young Queen made at him. He was relieved Daenerys had become more cordial around him and see him as an ally rather than the spawn of Robert Baratheon. It has been like this between them since that night a while back.

“Well to be fair your Grace, those fighters came from poor stock.” Silas then gave a hearty pat to Ser Barristan’s back. “And Ser Barristan is a tough old goat. I honestly didn’t think I was going to be able to beat him.”

“Aye, you certainly picked up some new moves fighting in the arena.” Ser Barristan commented at the younger man. He then held his back as his face scrunched in slight pain. “Now with your permission your Grace, I would very much like to bathe and relax these sore bones.”

“Of course, Ser Barristan.” Daenerys nodded with a kind smile. “I’ll see you at supper.”

Ser Barristan gave her a bow and departed for his tent.

“I should probably take a bath as well,” Silas told Doreah as he removed his hand and arm wrapped around her hips and took a step away.

“Maybe I could join you?” Doreah smiled a mischievous smile and took one of his hands into hers. “I could help you scrub those hard to reach places?”

“Aye, I like the sound of that.” He replied with an impish smile of his own as he looked down at the handmaiden. The smile quickly went away when he remembered that they were still not alone. He quickly turned his gaze to the young Queen and her small entourage behind her as she stared at the two of them with a raised eyebrow.

“Apologies your Grace.” Silas hastily told Daenerys.

The young Queen raised her hand and shook her head at him.

“There’s no need to apologize Silas. Both of you can go.” Daenerys smiled and turned her gaze to Doreah. “Be sure to be back in an hour to prepare supper.”

“Yes, Khaleesi.” The handmaiden replied as Daenerys gave them one last nod and departed to her tent on the other side of the camp. Once alone, Doreah grabbed a tighter hold of Silas’ hand and led him to the tent to grab their bathing items and made their way to the river.

 

**xXx**

  **xXx**

 

“Mmm…Silas.” Doreah’s voice moaned deeply at the pleasure she felt from the young man’s enthralling touch of his soaking wet hands on her body. She loved the way his rough hands felt on her body.

Closing her sapphire eyes and a blissful smile spread on her beautiful face, Doreah lazily arched her small body forward as the two relaxed in refuge from the blazing sun under the shade of a rock cliff in the shallow part of the river that gave them some privacy.

“I didn’t realize how much you needed this. By the Gods, you are so tight!” Silas responded from behind her with a wolfish grin. He continued his ministrations on the handmaiden and putting a little more pressure on the spot his fingers worked on, eliciting a much louder moan as her body writhed at his pleasurable touch.  “How are you still so tight after the last time we did this?”

“Hard work.” she coyly responded. Gods, did he have talented fingers. “Besides, I know how much you like doing this to me.”

Silas let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, I do. I love having my hands on you.”

He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. “Feeling your soft skin and seeing what my touch does to you.”

Doreah let out a sudden small gasp and bit her lower lip as Silas added a little more pressure to her with his wonderful touch.

“But to strain your back and shoulders just to get me to massage the tight knots out is just ridiculous.” Silas simpered as his hands continued to knead the gorgeous handmaiden’s stiff shoulders.

“Couldn’t be helped.” She breathed and relaxed at the relief she felt. “Duties of a Handmaiden can be quite strenuous at times.”

“Well…” Silas began. He paused a moment as he leaned back against the rock he and Doreah sat in front of, giving her his half smile that she loved to see. “If you need the help of a certain strong man, you can always find me.”

“Oh really?” She smiled coyly at him, leaning her body close to him. “You’d carry everything for me.”

“If that’s what my lady commands.”  He told her. “I would even carry you if you asked.”

Doreah’s smile widened at his statement, knowing that he truly meant it.

“What’s the matter?” Silas asked her after moments of silence passed between them.

Doreah shook her head. “Nothing’s the matter. I’m just happy, is all. To be here with you.”

She swam closer and wrapped an arm around his torso only for Silas to wince and let out a sharp gasp.

“Silas, I’m so sorry!” Doreah smiled apologetically.

“No need to apologize,” Silas assured her with a caress of his hand against her soft cheek.

Doreah raised an eyebrow as a mischievous look came across her beautiful face.

“You know, I have a remedy to make you feel better.”

Before he could respond, Doreah lowered her head down to the side of his body and gently kissed him on the bruised area. His body stiffened and his abdomen muscles contracted impulsively at the contact.

Silas wanted to protest her actions, he felt he should but the words just wouldn’t come out of his partly opened mouth.

“Does that feel better?” She asked Silas as she raised herself to his height.

To be honest, it did. Her touch made him feel relaxed and calm, comforting even. Nodding his head in response, Doreah smiled at him before sliding herself closer to him and placing a soft kiss on his lips that he quickly responded back with a bit more fervor. Her lips were so intoxicating to him.

Silas had become much better with intimacy and Doreah has been incredible with being patient with him. Gradually, he became more forward and open with her.

Doreah’s kiss becomes more demanding as she uses her lips and tongue to coax Silas to open his mouth to meet hers with his own tongue.

Being so focused on her lips, Silas didn’t realize her hands had begun to trail down his body until a hand of hers brushed against his bruised side.

Gently, he broke away from her. It wasn’t because of the pain (which there was none) but because he realized what was happening and where her hands were going and as much as he has improved, there was a lot of progress to be made.

“Doreah,” he muttered as he took her hands in his own.

The handmaiden sighed as she looked down at the water between them, disappointed and clearly annoyed at her advances being spurned by him. 

Silas couldn’t help but feel bad for doing this to her, Gods know she has been very patient with him and he never meant to do so but he wasn’t ready yet. There was still something about the act that left a bad feeling within him.

“I know,” Doreah grumbled repeatedly as she herself backed from him. “I agreed to take things slow with you.”

“I’m sorry.” Silas apologized, sensing the frustration coming from Doreah. “For what it’s worth, you are helping me so much, Love. Every day I am with you, I feel better. More comfortable with this. With you.”

“And I am ecstatic that you feel that way!” Doreah exclaimed with a pained smile that showed she was still upset with him. “But Silas, all you have been doing is taking the smallest of steps and making the slightest bit of progress.”

Silas looked down at the water. She was right. As much as progress as he’s done, there was still a lot to be made and he was hesitating to take those bigger steps to quicken the progress.

“I am so sorry Doreah.” He muttered quietly to her and closed his eyes as he took in a deep breath before continuing. “I am sorry for being such a terrible lover. You deserve someone far better than me. Someone who isn’t damaged.”

He felt the soft touch of Doreah’s fingers under his chin and gently lift his head, returning his beautiful emerald gaze back to her.

“I want you, Silas Baratheon.” She replied with certainty. “and I deserve you, no matter what you think. I just want to help you. In case you forgot, I have a bit of experience in this area.”

“Aye, and I know that isn’t who you are anymore.” Silas let out a small airy chuckle as a smile came across Doreah’s lips. “You are so much more Doreah and since we have been together, I have had the pleasure of seeing that for myself.”

Doreah moved her hand from his bearded chin to the side his face and caressed his cheek gently. Lifting herself up a little on the tips of her toes, Doreah pressed her lips softly on to his.

“I meant what I said Silas, I want to be with you and I only want to help you in any way I can.” She said as she pulled away. “I only want to make sure that you’re happy.”

Silas gazed down at Doreah and all he could think about was how lucky he is to have a woman as great as Doreah who wants to be with him. Who accepts his flaws and even wants to help him. He couldn’t think of many, or any women that would have done this for him in the past.

The tender touch of Doreah’s hands on his right arm pulled him from his thoughts as she tugged him toward the river bank.

“Come on, our hour is nearly up. We better get back to camp.” Doreah told him, tilting her head toward their belongings piled on top of the rocks in the sand.

With a nod, Silas allowed Doreah to lead him back to dry land.

Despite being more comfortable with her, Silas still felt the need to keep himself turned away when Doreah dried her bare body with her towel. It wasn't because he was uncomfortable seeing her naked body, in fact, it was quite the opposite now, but he still thought they could both use privacy, mostly for Doreah’s sake, though the gorgeous handmaiden didn’t seem to mind her nudity out in the open, at least when she is with him.

After drying themselves and dressing into the fresh clean clothes they brought with them, the two gathered their items into their individual satchels and followed the dirt trail back to the large camp.

 

**xXx**

  **xXx**

                **Daenerys Targaryen**

                The camp was bustling with life as everyone did their part to prepare for their evening supper. The men returned from the nearby desert and surrounding foliage of the oasis with their kills in hand. The women prepared the fresh meat to cook and cured the spare for later meals while the children ran around and played together and chased the animals traveling with them.

                From her tent, the young Queen watched the people that followed her go about their business, bowing whenever they pass by her and she kindly smiled back at them and asked how they were, making sure they were alright. It was the least she could do for these people that willingly followed her through the desert. Dany might not show it but internally, she was overjoyed to see so many follow her of their own free will. To have so many trust her and her cause gave her the confidence that made her believe that she would be a capable Ruler.

                From the corner of her violet eyes, Dany caught a glimpse of a couple making their way out of the tree line and into the campsite.

                Silas and Doreah walked through the camp, hand in hand with their fingers intertwined in one another's as they conversed between themselves.

Dany was glad to see Doreah so happy. After the liaison between her and Viserys, Doreah hadn’t been very eager to begin a new relationship (if that’s what she and Viserys even had to begin with) with someone else. Sure, the handmaiden had flirted with many men and even had a tryst with a few in Quarth but it was never anything serious and she often ignored the men the following day.

She was very surprised that her handmaiden had set her sights on Silas. Doreah’s type had always been what Dany could only describe as peacocks. Handsome yes, but a bunch of flamboyant narcissistic men that really didn't deserve a second glance.

Silas wasn't like any of those men. Handsome, of course, but he wasn’t a peacock, the exact opposite in fact. He very rarely talked about himself. The only way Dany was able to know as much as she does about Silas is mostly from Ser Barristan and he ever had to say was good things.

Then there were the things about Silas that she got to see for herself. He is a kind man, offering aid to anyone traveling with them in need whether it was pitching tents or hunting meals for those that can’t and spent time playing with the children. Dany was surprised to see that he is particularly good with children, something she assumed he acquired from spending time with his younger siblings.

Another thing she couldn’t help but notice was how engaging he could be. Dany could tell Silas isn’t very comfortable talking about himself or his past before his recent freedom from slavery but when it came to other subjects, he became very interested. There have been quite a few times where she and Silas would discuss certain things and he always seemed very engrossed when listening to her opinions, especially when they differ from his own. It was a rare thing as most men didn’t care much for a women’s opinion, but Silas welcomed it, wanting to hear her perspective on things.

Dany had to admit, these good traits of his made him more attractive.

Very attractive, Dany thought to herself as she gazed at the young man, taking in his features. A strikingly handsome young man with a gorgeous set of warm emerald eyes and soft slightly pouty lips on his very comely face.

And his body...Dany’s eyes wandered to his torso. It was covered by a white tunic now but she has seen the fit figure beneath the clothing enough times to see it in her mind; the suntanned skin with markings of old scars here and there from past matches and the deep crevices of the well defined muscles on his strong lean body that often glistened in the sunlight from the sweat he worked up from his daily training that she found herself watching him at times. Watching those flexing muscles of his...

A rather loud squeal brought Dany back from her thoughts, a tad relieved to have her thoughts interrupted. Focusing her gaze toward the sudden noise, the young Queen found the source coming from Doreah when the handmaiden was unexpectedly snatched up by Silas and cradled in his arms as he spun them both on the heels of his boots while he held her close.

Seeing the way the two acted around each other, Dany couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sadness. She was, of course, glad to see both happy but it reminded her of what she lost. Drogo. The Khal was the first man she ever loved, and it was a love that did not come easy to obtain but it was worth the effort. Drogo, despite his violent barbaric lifestyle, became very caring toward her once she made the effort and even more so when she became pregnant with their son, Rhaego. She had it all, Khaleesi to a great and powerful Khal that loved her very much, a son that was to become the Stallion that mounts the world and in a moment,  it was all gone. Gradually she managed to amass what she needed, an army and three growing dragons but there was still that emptiness that her husband and son left just couldn’t be filled. She was glad that at least Doreah had gained her happiness, Gods know she deserved it.

The young Queen plastered a quick smile on her face when she saw the couple making their way to the tent. Silas was still carrying Doreah, the handmaiden had her arms wrapped around his neck as she beamed at the affection she was receiving. Dany truly missed that feeling.

When the two got to the tent’s entrance, Silas gracefully put Doreah back on her feet and both straightened themselves to a more professional look in the Queen’s presence.

“Your Grace.” the two greeted Dany with a small bow.

“Good to see you have delivered my handmaiden safe and sound.” Dany quipped at Silas, causing the young man to chuckle and Doreah to blush.

“Aye, I’d never let anything happen to this one,” Silas lifted Doreah’s hand to his lips and gently kissed the soft knuckles as he bid her farewell. “I’ll see you later this evening.”

Doreah gave him a nod as he made his way back toward the entrance of the tent. Before he turned away, Silas turned his attention to the young Queen.

“Your Grace.” he addressed and bowed before turning on his heels and departed from the large tent.

Once Silas had disappeared, Dany turned to Doreah. She was about to say something until she saw the dreamy expression on her handmaiden’s face. It was becoming a normal thing for Dany to see her dear friend like this, especially after spending time with Silas.

“Still going strong, I see.” Dany snickered, causing the handmaiden to quickly turn to the young Queen. Her embarrassed expression made Dany smile more.

“Very strong your Grace,” Doreah responded back with a shy smile.

A small chuckle escaped Dany’s lips. “Doreah, I have never seen you like this before.”

“Like what?”

“Like this!” Dany waved her pointed hands at Doreah. “So happy.”

Doreah’s cheeks flushed a pink color as she lowered her eyes. “I am. He makes me very happy.”

Though the handmaiden looked happy and said she was so, Dany could see there was something else behind the words spoken and the expression she wore. Dany has known Doreah long enough to know when her dear friend wasn’t telling her the truth.

“Doreah, I can tell there’s something else,” Dany told her with concern in her voice. It was obvious it concerns Silas. Most likely it was about him keeping Doreah at arm's length. Yes, Doreah had told her how she and Silas haven’t become...intimate yet and how Silas has been the one to always stop it before anything could happen. “It’s Silas isn’t it?”

Dany watched as Doreah let out a nervous chuckle and rubbed her hands together. 

“I honestly don’t know what to do,” Doreah exclaimed as she paced around the tent. “I'm afraid that I am out of my element when it comes to relationships. I have done everything I can to help him but I feel like it’s not enough.”

Dany could tell this bothered Doreah greatly. How could it not?

“Have you done everything Silas has asked?”

Doreah nodded in response. “Everything. I have even made suggestions to him.”

“Then you are doing everything right.”

Dany walked over and placed a reassuring hand on her handmaiden's shoulder.

“But if you feel uncertain, tell him. Your feelings matter too Doreah and you have every right to express how your feeling about this to him. If he is as great a man as he appears to be, then he will listen and understand.”

What she said seemed to have eased Doreah’s nerves as the handmaiden relaxed her body and gave Dany a quick smile and excused herself to prepare the evening supper.

**xXx**

  **xXx**

** Silas Baratheon; later that night. **

                The oasis illuminated brightly as the torches along the pathways mazing through the camp were burned brightly for the fellow campers as the late and dark new moon sky took all source of light from them from above.

                Having finished eating a delicious meal with the Queen and the other members of her small council, Silas sat outside contently and watched the evening bustle of the camp as the others within the camp finished meals of their own and enjoyed the relaxing moment they have after a long hot day.

                It was nice to see the people of the camp work together as a community. To see former slaves working together not for a Master but for each other. The men and women helped each other hunt and gather food for meals that they all ate together like a big family.

As a Prince, Silas was confined to the Red Keep, away from most people besides his family where he never truly felt he belonged. However, here in this camp, he felt like he was finally apart of something and able to contribute to this growing community. He no longer felt like an outsider as he had all his life.

A small chuckle vibrates in his throat as a smile crept on his face when he realized the irony of what he had been thinking.

The warm breeze danced through the camp and with it a familiar flowery fragrance that interrupted his thoughts. An enticing scent that he instantly recognized and quickly stood up from where he sat and turned to face the unexpected company.

“Not reading tonight?”

“My Queen.” he greeted her with a small bow. She has already mentioned to him before that in private he didn't have to bow to her, but Silas still did it as a form of courtesy. “Not tonight I’m afraid. Doreah wanted to spend some time together and well...you know how enthralled I can get when I begin to read.”

Daenerys let out a small laugh. “Oh, all too well.” 

“Speaking of Doreah,” Daenerys began to say. The tone she used, Silas couldn’t help but notice it sounded a tad like she was prying. “She seems to make you very happy.”

Silas’ expression lightened and his smile softened at the Queen’s comment. It was true, Doreah made him more than happy and that was something that he thought he would never feel again.

“Oh aye, she does.”

“That seems to be her gift. Trying to make people happy and to help whoever she can. It’s what I love about her.” Dany happily told him. However, he could see that there was a ‘but’ about to be said.

“However, I can also tell it is her curse.”

Silas’ smile faltered at the words that came from the young Queen.

“Doreah has lived most of her life as a bed slave in Lys. Since she was a young girl, she has been taught how to please others, to care about their happiness before her own. I feel that her lessons are so ingrained into her being that she can’t help herself sometimes.”

Silas lowered his head in shame. He knew where Dany was going with this. It has been bothering him for a long time now.

“Did she ever tell you about my brother?” Dany asked him. Silas shook his head. To his further shame, he had come to realize that he didn’t ask Doreah many questions about herself. Mostly, it was Doreah asking questions about him and his time as Prince. Silas did not care much to talk about himself but he did talk about other things and people but that doesn't make up for the fact that he had been, in a way, ignoring Doreah and her needs as well.

“Viserys was a terrible person and he was very cruel to Doreah.” She explained to Silas. “He used her whenever he felt like it and has even beaten her when she made him angry, though he was often angry for no reason. However, she never complained about him. I didn't even know how he treated her until I saw him drag her into my tent by her hair because of some misunderstanding.”

Silas closed his eyes. He felt so bad for Doreah having to endure a despicable man like Viserys.

“I would never do that to Doreah.” He assured her. “She means so much to me.”

“And I know that.” Dany smiled kindly at him. “I can tell that you care deeply for her but maybe you can tell her that and assure her that.”

Dany took a step closer to Silas. “Doreah puts on a confident face but truthfully she’s as insecure as anyone else can be. Especially with you.”

“Me?” Silas asked with surprise in his voice. Doreah always seemed so forward with him whenever they were alone.

Dany nodded her head. “She would probably be furious with me for saying this, but I know that she isn't going to tell you. You make her very nervous, Silas. You are the first real relationship she has ever had. The whole concept of being in a relationship is new to her and then there is the fact that she is trying to help you only for you to decline her help, it makes her feel like she is disappointing you.”

Silas did not know what to say. He had no idea that Doreah felt like this. She always seemed so happy with him. Sure, there were moments when she seemed a little frustrated with him, but he never thought that she felt insecure with him.

Movement behind the young Queen took Silas’ gaze away from her and focus on the Handmaiden making her way to them.

Doreah smiled a bright smile when she caught Silas staring at her, looking bashful at him. Seeing such a sight would have made any other man feel so lucky to be the object of a such a wonderful woman’s affection but Silas didn't feel worthy of such an honor.

 The Handmaiden smiled at Dany as she gave her a courteous bow before walking up to Silas and giving him a warm hug and kiss on the lips.

Silas could see Dany turn away from the corner of his eye, looking slightly awkward that made him smile.

“Did I interrupt something?” Doreah asked as she wrapped her arms around Silas’ body and he slid an arm on her waist and gently pulled her closer to him.

“Of course not.” Silas smiled.

“I was actually going to head back to my tent.” The young Queen announced and began back away from the couple. “Enjoy your evening you two.”

After saying goodnight to each other, Silas and Doreah watched as Daenerys made her way back to her tent. Once the young Queen was out of sight, the two walked hand in hand through the mass of tents to a discreet spot outside of camp to be alone.

“So…” Doreah began coyly and snuggled further into Silas’ chest as the two of them lazing on the ground of a hilltop just above the forest of trees growing in the oasis, listening to the beautiful sounds of the nocturnal nature around them and the crackling of the warm campfire before them made a relaxing ambient combination for the two. “What were you and Dany talking about before I walked over?”

Silas chuckled nervously and shifted his body a little. He didn’t know if he was ready to talk to Doreah about what Dany had told him.

Doreah must have noticed the change in his behavior as she had moved from her position on his chest and sat herself up next to him, her expression held concern as she watched him.

“Erm...well, we were talking about you, actually.” There was no point in hiding it. It was a discussion that needed to be immediately discussed between the two and this was a perfect moment to do so.

“Me?” Doreah’s brow furrowed deeply as she straightened herself up, causing her to sit further away from Silas. Her eyes hardened to a slight glare as she stared at him. “Why were you two talking about me? Have I done something wrong?”

“What? No!” Silas exclaimed, his voice came out a little louder and higher pitched than he anticipated. “No, of course you didn't do anything wrong.”

“Then why were you two talking about me?”

Silas was surprised with how defensive Doreah was getting with him. He had never seen her like this before.

“She’s concerned for you.” Silas calmly told her. “She brought something to my attention that I should have noticed.”

Doreah’s breath hitched in her chest for a moment and Silas couldn't help but notice the worried look that showed on her face for that split second before she quickly replaced it with a calm serious expression. “And what's that?”

“That you’re not happy. With me.”

Doreah turned away from him, apparently finding more interest in the dancing flames than in him.

“That’s not true,” Doreah muttered, her gaze never leaving the sight of the campfire.

Silas sighed and shook his head. What Dany had said about Doreah was true.

“Doreah,” Silas took her hand from the ground between them and held it in his own. She turned back to him, her eyes no longer glaring at him, but he could tell that she seemed worried. “I want you to know that it’s okay to let me know how you feel because that matters to me. You matter to me.”

The worried expression in her face disappeared as she listened to his words. Tears started to well up in the corners of her eyes and threatened to fall down her cheeks.

“You mean that?” She sniffled.

“Of course, I do!” He responded, sounding surprised that she just realized that. “Doreah, you are the best thing that has happened to me in a long long time.”

“I don’t think I have ever been told that before.” Doreah let out a light-hearted giggle as she wiped away the tears from her eyes.

“Then I will make sure that you know because Doreah, you make me so happy.” Silas scooted closer to the Handmaiden and gently kissed her cheek. “You are the best thing that has happened to me.”

Silas could feel Doreah smiling as he peppered her beautiful face with kisses trailing to her lips where she gladly reciprocates the gesture. His eyes were closed but he could feel her hands softly press onto both sides of his face as she pulled him closer to her, deepening the kiss.

Silas had to pull away for a moment to catch his breath. Doreah did the same as well, feeling each other's cool breath. opening his eyes, he gazed at Doreah’s own gorgeous sapphire that stared lovingly at him.

Running his long fingers on the nape of her neck and his other hand sliding down to her waist, Silas tenderly lowered her onto the ground, his body hovering over her protectively.

He could feel his heart racing in his chest and his breathing became shallower as he stared down at the stunning woman under him. His body trembled like a leaf with excitement. This was it. He felt ready more than ever. Nothing within him made him feel like he wasn’t ready to do this. All he felt was a want to make this young woman he cares so much for, happy.

Silas leans down and kisses Doreah’s lips tenderly and sucks on her lower lip.

“Silas.” Doreah moaned against his mouth.

Her pleading voice made him nervous and at the same time excited. How could he ever deny her when she looked like that?

With an assured smile, he removed his cotton shirt, revealing his bare torso that made Doreah’s eyes widened briefly at the mesmerizing sight. His already tousled hair became slightly messier as he slipped the shirt over his head and tossed it to his side.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he murmured softly, wanting to be sure that she wanted to go through with this.

He gazed softly at Doreah, waiting for her response, his emerald eyes watched her move to a sitting position, her own eyes never looking away from him.

Before Doreah could respond, a loud horn could be heard in the distance.

Their eyes widened in shock and turned to the direction of the campsite where the deep brassy noise continued to echo in the night.

“Are we being attacked!?” Doreah worriedly asked as she stood up while Silas quickly slipped his shirt over his head.

“I don’t know.” He told her as he looked out, not seeing anything that would indicate they were being attacked. “but we need to get back!”

Silas grabbed Doreah’s hand and lead her back down the trail that took them to camp.

**xXx**

  **xXx**

The camp was filled with movement when the former Prince and the Handmaiden arrived. Children were being ushered into tents by the women while the Dothraki warriors and Unsullied marched through the grounds all heading in one direction.

After making sure Doreah was safe in the Queen's tent, Silas ran to his tent and grabbed his swords. Not long after following the crowd did he catch the sight of Ser Barristan following the crowd of soldiers and jogged his way over.

“Ser Barristan!” Silas called out to him. The Knight heard his name and turned to Silas. “What’s going on?”

“The Unsullied patrolling caught site of a large group coming our way and sounded the alarm.” The older man informed the younger.

“Do you think it could be enemies?” Silas wouldn't past the remaining Masters of Astapor to send mercenaries after Daenerys after what she did to them and their city. His own father spent nearly twenty years and a fortune hiring assassins after her and her brother when they posed no immediate threat to them.

Ser Barristan shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing has happened so far so I’m inclined to believe that they are friendly.”

“Or just waiting for the perfect moment to strike,” Silas muttered. His eyes scanned the camp as they marched to the other side with the rest of the soldiers. “Where is the Queen anyway? I didn't see her in her tent when I dropped off Doreah.”

Ser Barristan sighed before answering his question. “The Queen went ahead with Ser Jorah to see to these invaders.”

“What now?!” Silas practically shouted. She could not be that daft to walk over to potential invaders. Especially with minimal security.

“She wanted to see them for herself and question them.”

“Why aren't you with her?” Silas thought it strange that the commander of the Queensguard would not be with his Queen.

“She wanted me to wait for you to return. She would have ordered Ser Jorah, but she knows how you two are around each other.”

The two laughed a little at the truth. Silas could have sworn that he and Ser Jorah were cordial enough in her company, but he guessed wrong and made a mental note to work on that. He also took notice that the young Queen knew that he would come to her when trouble arrived, realizing that he was loyal to her. He thought it was nice that she knew that.

The two men made their way through the crowd of soldiers until they broke through the front and were met with the sight of Queen Daenerys followed by Ser Jorah and her Dothraki bloodriders.

“Good of you to show,” Dany said to him with a small smile crossing her lips.

“Well when I heard the horn, I figured it meant we were under attack rather than supper was ready since we already ate.”

“Such a man. Thinking about either food or fighting.”

Silas gave her a quick wink after the small banter that left her feeling better about the situation at hand.

“So, what do we have here? Enemies?” The smile faded from Silas as he put his serious face on to deal with the circumstance.

“We thought you might be the judge of that.” Ser Jorah said to him with snark in his tone.

Silas was confused by the exiled Knights response. He turned to Ser Barristan who seemed equally confused as well.

“Me?”

Dany nodded and turned to face forward where the group of ‘invaders’ stood.

“When I questioned them, they said they were former slave fighters from Astapor wanting to join our cause. One of them said they know you and could vouch for them.”

Before Silas could respond, Ser Jorah walked over to the crowd of former slaves and motioned for one of them to come forward.

“It’s good to see you are well Silas.” The man brought forward. 

Silas couldn’t believe it when he saw the young man in front of him.

“Aros!”

Silas marched forward to his friend and embraced him in a warm brotherly hug.

“What are you doing here?” The former Prince asked him when they broke apart.

“After you left, we spent days fighting against the remaining Masters and their slave soldiers,” Aros answered him. “Those that survived fled from the city as fast as they could. When everything died down, we,” Aros turned to the crowd of former slaves and pit fighters behind him. “Wanted to do more and fight alongside you to liberate the rest of Slavers Bay from the clutches of the Masters.”

 “That’s great Aros!” Silas was truly impressed with his friend’s initiative and want to help Daenerys Targaryen. “We could always use your help.”

Silas turned to the young Queen behind him who seemed just as impressed with Aros and the collection of men and women that followed him.

“Of course, as Silas stated, we could always use the help of others.” She gladly replied to him. Stepping forward, Dany stopped when she stood beside Silas’ right. “Aros, you are the leader of this...army, correct?”

Aros seemed a little hesitant to answer her but once he seemed to find the words to say he spoke up.

“Truthfully, we don't have a leader. Not yet.”

“Oh.” Dany sounded surprised to hear that. “Then who would lead you?”

Again, Aros didn’t answer her right away. The former slave’s eyes turned to Silas, giving him the clue as to who would lead them.

Silas closed his eyes and shook his head before the words came out of Aros’ mouth.

“We agreed that Silas should lead us.”

When Silas opened his eyes, he saw everyone staring back at him and while they did, three words came to mind.

Oh, fuck me.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about that chapter, eh?! So, it might seem that I forced a few things (the Olenna/Varys conversation and the slave fighters etc..) but I realized that I am going way too slow and need to pick up the pace on the story to get things going and moving forward.
> 
> I don't have a clear picture on what I want to do for the next chapter (I haven't fleshed out the notes yet) but what I have in mind is to begin focusing on the liberation of Yunkai, the intro of Daario and the leader of the Second Sons and maybe another POV of Varys adding more to his secret cause.  
> Well, with all that being said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, please feel free to message me or leave a review and I will respond as soon as possible.


	6. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, MadTargaryen here with a new chapter. Can you believe?! An update that didn't take a whole year!
> 
> The truth is, I cut the chapter short because I wanted to post it before the season ends in honor of the finale of what has been the best show I have ever watched.
> 
> Never has a show caught my attention as much as GoT has. I remember when I first started to watch it. My sister told me about it, saying she heard of this crazy good show she has been hearing about and we should check it out. The second season had already started so my sister and I started with the first season and work our way through all the current episodes, of course. I remember I could not get into the show at first. There were too many characters and unusual names to keep track of, that I actually had stopped watching the show. Eventually, I went back to it and I'm glad I did because I managed to get into the story and fall I love with all of these iconic characters we got to know over the course of the eight seasons. I am honestly going to miss this show, despite this eighth season. For the past eight years, it was the one show I looked forward to the most to watch.
> 
> Now about cutting the chapter. As I mentioned earlier I had cut it short to post something today. Well, I decided I am probably going to keep doing this for future chapters. My chapters are just so big and the main reason it takes so long to post the next chapter is that they are so lengthy. Breaking down what I had planned for chapter six, I had a total of five separate parts that I was going to put into the chapter. What I am giving you is honestly the only part I had written so far since the last update. If I had waited to add everything I planned, it would most likely have been another year-long wait. So for now, I am just going to write smaller portions so the wait won't be so long for you guys.
> 
> So, about season eight. I have to say I am honestly disappointed with it. Pretty much after 8x01, I and my family felt let down. I actually started rewatching the series from the beginning to remind myself why I fell in love with this show and what the characters were like before they were brutally butchered. However, I am not going to let that hinder my work on this story. I still plan on seeing this to the very end. However, I will be making a lot of changes to the season 8 plot. It's what I love about fanfiction. You can write a story and make it however you want it to go.
> 
> Alrighty, I think that's all I need to say for now. Enjoy the new chapter!

 

Silas understood that at some point in his travels, his loyalty was going to be tested. He just didn't think it would be so soon and from something he didn't even plan.

A cold breeze swept through the dying flames of the campfire, nearly putting it out until another log was tossed atop the charred remains of the others, reinvigorating the dying fire once again.

Silas sat back down on the dead tree trunk on the ground, brushing his hands together of the dirt from the log he just tossed into the fire and huddled into his body to keep warm but he couldn't relax. He was far too anxious for that.

_This isn't good_. He thought to himself anxiously and fidgeted with his hands and his right leg kept bouncing. This is exactly what they didn't want to happen. What made Dany so reluctant to have him part of her army. The only reason he was even here was to rally the Lords of Westeros to her cause under the condition that he rallies them to her cause. Now, before they even traveled through Slavers Bay, he has already had a small army of former slaves proclaim him their leader.

Silas glanced over to the Queen's tent to his left. The flaps to enter the tent were closed as she held a meeting about this with Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah. No doubt she was getting two completely opposite views of this predicament.

"Seems like a cheerful discussion."

Startled, Silas turned to see Aros walking over from his right. He stood for a moment before Silas realized he was waiting to be offered a seat. It was going to take a while for that slave mentality to leave Aros.

Silas motioned for Aros to take the spot on the fallen log beside him. The former slave stepped over and sat to Silas' right.

"I'm sorry if we got you in trouble brother." Aros apologized to him. "Wasn't expecting that kind of reaction from the Queen."

Silas shrugged. "There's nothing to apologize for. You didn't know this was going to happen."

"Will there be consequences though?" The former slave looked worried when he asked. "I will never forget what she did to Kraznys and the rest of Astapor. No one will."

Silas let out a small chuckle.

"Aye, she does have…a growing reputation for living up to her family words. But you don't have to worry about me."  _I hope._

"That's a very bold claim." Aros sighed and leaned forward so that his crossed arms rested on his lap.

"I am what you would call non-expendable," Silas informed his friend. Looking over, he could see the confused look Aros was giving him.

"She needs me." The clarification worked for Aros. "I am a crucial part of her campaign if she wants to succeed. However...I don't doubt that this unprecedented declaration for my leadership will not come with some sort of questioning."

Looking back at the tent, he could hear Jorah Mormont's voice say something about this being exactly what they don't want. Ser Barristan responding back saying Silas would never betray his oath.

This had to be very hard for Daenerys. She trusts the counsel of both of these men yet they offer her completely opposite points. In the end, though, it will be her decision.

The commotion in the Queen's tent seemed to quiet down. For a moment nothing happened as Silas and Aros kept an eye on the tent.

Then, the flap opened and Ser Barristan stepped out. He looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on the two young men and made his way over.

"I guess we will see where this is going," Silas muttered lowly.

"It was nice knowing you brother," Aros smirked and lightly smacked the former Prince on the back.

Standing up when the Commander of the Queensguard neared, Silas couldn't help but feel anxious and if truth be told, a little down. He worked so hard to gain the Queen's trust, trying to show her that he was in her side. But this, this small army of former slaves declaring him as their leader rather than her might have set him back to the beginning.

"The Queen wants to speak with you." Ser Barristan said when he reached them. Silas nodded and stepped over to make his way to the tent while Aros sat back down.

Ser Barristan's gaze fell upon the former slave. "She would like to speak to you as well."

Aros' brow furrowed in worry but didn't wait for an explanation and stood up with Silas as well.

Together, the three men walked the short way to the Queen's tent. When the Dothraki guarding her tent opened the flap allowing them to enter the largest tent in the camp.

The tent was faintly lit with the dancing flames on the candles spread throughout. Directly across from the entrance was the small platform with a plush seat that the young Queen herself sat upon with Jorah Missandei Irri and Doreah standing around her while Greyworm and six of his guards stood strategically around the tent, still as statues. Not too far from Daenerys, her three dragons perched themselves, growling and faintly screeching as they eyed the newcomers.

Silas has seen the gorgeous and terrifying creatures many times already and the sight never gets old. Neither does the amazed looks the people give the first time they see the dragons, which Aros was doing with his wide brown eyes and opened mouth.

It wasn't the former slaves first time seeing a dragon but it was the first time seeing them up close without them breathing fire at him.

They stopped walking just before the platform the Queen stationed herself and bent down on a knee, bowing their heads.

When Daenerys motioned for them to rise, both men did so and stood quietly while they waited for the Queen to speak.

Daenerys didn't look at him like the friend he thought she was to him. There was no hint of friendliness in her violet eyes. What he saw was the Queen. Mother of Dragons as she sat on her throne.

"This is quite the predicament we have here." She stated calmly.

Silas nodded and cleared his throat.

"Yes, your Grace." His voice was emotionless but clear as he spoke.

"Allowing you, a former Prince of the Seven Kingdoms to command an army would be a foolish idea. Or so I am told to believe."

Dany raised a hand to her right where Ser Jorah stood tall and stoic.

"Ser Jorah believes that allowing you to lead an army would be bad. That you would turn on me the first chance you get."

_Of course, Ser Jorah would think that._ Silas fought the urge to roll his eyes at the exiled Knight and watched Dany put down her right hand and raise her left to Ser Barristan.

"Ser Barristan however, thinks otherwise. He believes that you are a man of honor and will keep to your oath that you swore to me."

Lowering her hands to her lap, Dany paused a moment before continuing.

"Two advisors with different opinions. This makes for a difficult decision for me to make."

"If I may speak, your Grace."

Dany's eyes as well as the rest of the eyes in the tent moved from the former Prince and instead went to Aros himself who stepped a few paces before the platform the young Queen sat atop.

With a nod from Daenerys, Aros resumed speaking.

"I nor the men and women that traveled meant to cause trouble for Silas or you. All we want is to help the Queen that broke our chains and freed us from slavery but we can't do it without a leader."

Daenerys' gaze seemed to soften at Aros' words. It meant a lot to her knowing that people willingly followed her and wanted to help her with her cause.

"Why don't you choose another to command you or your soldiers? or I could choose one for you." Dany asked him. No doubt a question that had crossed her mind since the former slaves showed up.

"We might all be fighters, your Grace, but we do not know how to lead. Silas was taught his entire life how to fight and lead. As for you choosing for us, I thank you for your offer but we have lived our entire lives as slaves, with no choice in what we can do. Now that we have that freedom, we want to choose our commander, our leader and we choose Silas. He is one of us. He might not have been born a slave but he has been with us long enough. I have fought by his side in the pits and know that he will be a great leader for us and a commander for you. He is loyal to his friends and I know he will remain loyal to you as well."

Aros finished his statement and stepped back next to Silas. The former Prince's eyes glistened as he nodded a thank you to his friend and brother. Aros smiled and nodded back.

As appreciative as Silas was for what Aros stated, it was all in the hands of Daenerys now. His life and chance to return to Westeros all rested on what the Queen before him said next.

Dany's expression did not give way to any idea of what she had decided on.

"All my life, I have put my trust into people that have betrayed me. Friends, allies and even family have all used me for their own purposes and left me feeling bitter and humiliated for trusting them. Tell me, Silas, why should I trust you with your own army? Why should I trust you at all?"

Silas didn't respond right away but instead stepped forward toward the Queen as Aros had done. The Dothraki stood tall between him and Daenerys with no intention of moving. That was fine with him. He didn't need to be close to her to say what he needed to say.

"Your Grace, I think that if you had any idea that I could betray you, you wouldn't have allowed me to live let alone join your army."

Dany didn't respond. Silas' confidence in his words caught her attention enough and seeing that she wasn't going to dispute the claim, he continued on.

"I admitted being Robert Baratheon's trueborn son when you asked. I admitted that I tried to take the Iron Throne from my own brother. I have admitted and many more and I will continue to do so because you are my Queen."

Silas bent down on one knee with his arms resting on the other. His emerald eyes never breaking from the young Queen's violet gaze that stared back.

"You freed me. You saved me and gave me back my life. That is a debt I can only repay with my undivided loyalty to you. I swore an oath that I will serve you and I intend on keeping that promise and if you want me to swear that oath again to prove that to you, then I will."

The tent fell silent with only the sound of the dragons light growls and their talons scratching on their perch with every movement they made.

Daenerys shifted in her seat before standing up and walked between two of her bloodriders to get to Silas.

Remaining on his knees, Silas watched Dany approach him. The petite Mother of Dragons towered above him as she stared down at him. Motioning for him to stand, he did so right away, once again standing taller than the Queen before him.

Placing a hand on Silas' shoulder, Daenerys finally spoke.

"I want to believe that I can trust you, Silas." Her voice was softer as she spoke to him. Her eyes, her expression soften as well as she looked down at him. "But I don't think I can truly do so unless I allow you to prove it."

Silas stared up at her with a surprised look on his face. He couldn't believe it! Was she agreeing to give him command of an army?!

"Are you sure that is wise?" Jorah asked, just as surprised as Silas. Only, he looked rather irritated at the idea as well as he stepped forward. "He admitted that when given the resources and the support, he turned on his own family. What makes you think he won't do that with these slave fighters who want him as their leader?"

Silas bit the inside of his cheek to keep him from correcting the Knight that these men and women are in fact former slaves but now wasn't the time or place to do that.

Before he could retort, Daenerys answered the question.

"Because while Silas will be the leader of these  _former_  slave fighters—" A small smile appeared on the right corner of Silas' lips. He appreciated the correction Dany made in the status of the freed people of Astapor that followed them. "He will be closely watched by one my advisors. You, Ser Jorah."

Silas' eyes snapped to the bear Knight as he too looked just as stunned.

"I am grateful for the job Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said at the proposal. "But I still feel this is an unnecessary risk to take."

Silas glared at the Knight who did so in return.

"I need more soldiers," Daenerys told her eldest advisor. "With the Unsullied, I only have eight thousand while the Lords of Westeros have twice as much. I need all the help I can get and fighters from the Arenas in Slaver's Bay sound like good additions to me should they wish to join. But I want to make sure they will fight for me."

Dany returned her gaze to Silas for a moment, making sure he understood. He does.

Ser Jorah let out a sigh and nodded. No doubt watching someone he hated wasn't going to be pleasant but it is what his Queen commands. Plus, the thought of finding any evidence of Silas double-crossing them sounded all too good for him to pass up.

Once Ser Jorah returned to his former place, Dany returned her attention back to Silas.

"Silas, you have my permission to lead the army and recruit anyone that wishes to join on the condition that Ser Jorah oversees everything regarding the army. Every council meeting we have, I want you to tell me every detail of what you have been doing, how many have been recruited and where you plan to go. Does that seem reasonable?"

Silas nodded his head. "Yes, your Grace. Thank you."

Dany gave him a small smile that soon faded as she spoke these final words to him for the night.

"I have put my trust into many people that have betrayed me. Don't be another."

It wasn't a warning or a threat but a plea to him. A plea to not be one of the many that used her for their own gain.

"I promise, Dany," Silas responded quietly for only her to hear with a reassuring smile. The young Queen's eyes widened at the informal address of her name by him but instead smiled back at him. "You have my word and my loyalty."

Daenerys accepted his promise a nod and turned to everyone in the tent.

"Unless anyone else has anything to say, you are all dismissed."

As Dany then turned to Aros. "Do those that traveled with you have tents? Have they eaten yet?"

"We have tents, your Grace but we are due for supper." Aros informed her, trying to keep a smile from appearing on his face to keep the conversation professional. The idea of having a leader chosen by them was no doubt making him more than happy. He was no doubt more than happy follow a leader that he and the others chose.

"Then we shall make sure you are all fed. Silas—" Daenerys turned to the newly appointed leader. "Why don't you show Aros and the others where they can set up their tents and see that they are fed."

"Of course your Grace," Silas said to her.

"Good, then you may go." Daenerys kindly said to them.

"Thank you so much, my Queen," Aros said with a wide smile. "For listening and allowing us to choose our leader. You don't know how much that means to us."

"Now I do." Daenerys smiled at him. "I appreciate your support and help. That means a lot to me as well."

Both young men bowed and walked toward the tent's exit.

Just as Silas was about to exit, he paused a moment and turned back to the tent where he saw Dany walk toward her dragons and lovingly pet them each on their heads and neck. The dragons seemed to enjoy the interaction and nuzzled into her hand.

The young Queen looked gorgeous as she tended to her dragons. She seemed more at ease. Like she did that night they spent talking. It was a rare sight to see.

A sight that he couldn't look away from. A sight that made his heart race as he gazed at her.

"Silas."

Silas turned away from the Queen and to Aros who waited for him, looking curiously at his friend.

"Are you coming?"

"Yes." Silas said a little too fast and moved away from the tent. "Yes, let's go this way."

Silas marched away from the tent leaving Aros to quickly catch up as they made their way through the camp.

"It seems you have more favor than you let on with the Queen."

Silas chuckled. "Believe me, I didn't think this was going to turn out the way it did."

"Really now?"

Silas could hear the smile in Aros' voice.

"Being the son of the man that rebelled and destroyed her family and forced her into a life of exile doesn't exactly garner much favor here."

"She didn't let that get in the way of making her decision," Aros replied with a shrug. The two made a left turn down one of the dimly lit paths and continued through the camp. "She must really like you to allow you an army."

Silas felt his heart skip a beat that caused him to pause for a moment at the comment.

Aros noticed Silas' sudden change of demeanor.

"Oh, I see it isn't one-sided then." Aros remarked with a playful grin on his amused face.

"What!" Silas quickly exclaimed with a voice slightly higher than he meant it to come out making Aros laugh.

"You have proven my point."

"Hardly." Silas said with a shake of his head. "She's a good person with a kind heart."

"She absolutely has a 'good heart'." Aros stayed with a smirk.

"That's not what I meant." Silas said and shoved Aros playfully who burst into laughter as he stumbled a few steps from the push.

"Besides, I am already with someone."

That revelation had Aros taken aback a bit.

"Really?! Who is she?"

"Her name is Doreah, one of Dany's-" Silas quickly caught his mistake when he saw Aros brow arch. "-the Queen's handmaidens. The blonde one."

"The blonde one," Aros repeated sounding impressed at Silas' choice. "The one that looks like she could be the Queen's sister?"

Silas knew he was being baited and rolled his eyes and shook his head at his friend. However, he couldn't help but notice that Dany and Doreah do in fact look fairly similar.

"I hadn't even noticed until you just told me." Silas told him rather defensively. "But it is Doreah that I have feelings for. Daenerys is my Queen and I am just one of her subjects."

Silas could tell Aros wasn't convinced but he didn't know how to convince him otherwise. He already has Doreah and he is happy about that. Doreah makes him happy. Daenerys makes him happy as well during the times he spent with her when it was just the two of them but she is his Queen first and foremost.

That wasn't exactly an answer.

Silas let out a sigh as he shook his head of the thoughts that were making him feel uncomfortable. He needed to change the subject and he knew what could change it. It was something he has been thinking about since he was waiting to be called into the Queen's tent.

Luckily, they had finally reached their destination, making the timing all the better say what he needed to say.

Stopping at the outskirts of the campsite, Silas and Aros looked out at the many men and women of various ages spread out on the desert with the little belongings they brought with them as they began their new life of freedom.

Seeing the two men returned, they all began to get up from their spots on the ground and walked over to Silas and Aros to hear what news they have for them.

Once everyone was ready, Aros cleared his throat as he readied to talk to the crowd.

"Queen Daenerys has granted our request to join her army!" He announced as loud as he could for everyone to hear him. The crowd was glad to hear that. Some even clapped and cheered.

When they quieted down, Aros resumed his announcement.

"As well as accepting our request of our leader!"

Silas smiled as he heard the crowd cheer for him louder the second time. Aros wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.

The crowd drew closer as they all congratulated Silas on the new position.

"I should be congratulating you all!" Silas said as the cheering died down. "You all made this happen on your own. I am honored to be your choice to lead you all and I hope I will become the leader you deserve."

"With that being said," Silas continued and stepped a few steps forward into the crowd. "My first act as your leader is who to appoint as my second. My right-hand man."

Silas turned to his right and placed a hand on Aros' shoulder. The former slave looked at Silas with surprise in his expression.

"Aros has been by my side since I was enslaved. He helped me adjust to the new life and became my first friend. In the arena, he was my partner who watched my back and saved my life countless times. There is no one better suited to be my second than him. Don't you agree?"

The crowd of fighters cheered for Aros and his new position. None was more deserving than him. Aros has proven to be an excellent fighter and a strategist in the arena and his unwavering loyalty makes him the best candidate for the job.

With the crowd's approval, Aros accepted the position. He looked to be on the verge of tears. No doubt this was the first time he felt appreciated and told such things about his character.

"Are you sure about this?" Aros asked him.

Silas gave him a nod. "As I said, I can't think of anyone else better suited for the job."

"I just hope I can live up to your expectations."

"I know you will." Silas assured his friend and gave him a pat on the back. "Now, let's get you all fed and rested. Teaching all of them to become soldiers is going to be an arduous task and I am going to need all the help I can get."

Aros agreed with Silas. Most of them don't know how to fight like an army. Teaching them all the techniques and phrases will be difficult. Most don't even know how to ride a horse. Silas could see a long road ahead but if they are willing to learn, he could see a successful future with this army. They have a passion for fighting and these men and women have spent years in the arena evading death with every match. Given the right discipline, they could become a fierce army. Silas' army that he will use to get his vengeance.

 

**xXx**

**xXx**

 

The hour was late by the time Silas returned to his tent. His soldiers wanted to celebrate and celebrate they did. Gathering the wine and ale they brought with them from Astapor, the men and women drank and feasted and enjoyed the victorious night.

By the time they settled down and began to tire, Silas managed to slip away back to his tent. He didn't realize how tired he was until he stepped inside and saw his awaiting bed.

His bed wasn't the only thing waiting for him. His sheets covered the petite form of a young woman lying in his bed.

He felt his heart skip a beat from being startled as he saw the long flowing silvery blonde hair atop of a head resting on the pillows. Slowly, the figure stirred in the bed and turned around to reveal the sleepy but relaxed face of Doreah as she gradually woke up.

Silas relaxed and let out a breath of air from his mouth.

Opening her eyes halfway, Doreah smiled when she saw the young man standing near the entrance of the tent.

"You're back." She said with a tired voice.

"Sorry I woke you." Silas smiled back at her and made his way to the bed.

"Don't be, I wanted to see you before bed."She replied and slid herself up a little. "I tried to stay awake but it got so late."

Sitting on the edge of the empty side, he slipped his feet from his boots and pulled his tunic over his head and tossed it onto the ground.

Moving further into the bed, Silas felt himself relax into the comfort of the mattress. Once he placed his head on the pillow his eyes immediately closed. Before he could drift to sleep, he felt a small weight on his chest. Opening one eye, he saw the silver hair of Doreah's as she placed her head on his chest while her body pressed snugly into his. Her lithe arm draped over his bare stomach where her soft hand lied on the right side of his torso.

He smiled at the woman who cared so much for him. The perfect woman for him. Doreah has been so patient with him and has done everything he has asked and yet has asked for nothing in return.

The thought made him feel guilty. Like he was using her and it didn't feel right to him. The conversation he had with Aros earlier didn't make him feel any better either. He felt like he had been caught in a betrayal when he hasn't even done anything.

He cares for Doreah. He knows that and she knows that but knowing might not be enough. The poor girl must be feeling like she's being held at arm's length and he's the one keeping her there. Maybe, it was time to change that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as I said, it's a very short chapter but the updates will most likely be more frequent. I think I forgot to mention before the chapter, the five parts that were to make up this sixth chapter will each be a chapter of their own.
> 
> In fact, I can tell you what to expect. Because I am trying to pick up the pace on the story and finally get to some important plots, the next chapter will be revolving around Yunkai and Dany meeting with the Master and the Second Sons. So, we are actually getting pretty close to finishing the third season plot. YAY!
> 
> One last thing before you go.
> 
> I have decided to have Silas ride a dragon. I know that I have stated in the past that I didn't want him to but seeing Dany and Jon riding Drogon and Rhaegal has inspired me to change my mind.
> 
> Alrighty, so I think that's all I have to say for now. If you have any questions or comments, as always, please feel free to message me or leave a review and I will respond to it as soon as possible.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter. I will make sure to have the other current chapters up as soon as possible so please feel free to read them once I get them posted.  
> Before I wrap this note up, I feel I should tell you that I am not a very consistent updater. Basically what I mean is that I tend to go a really long time without updating a story and when I mean a long time, I mean a LONG time. So, if it seems like I am inactive or something, I am just too busy to write or post but if you have any questions or comments please feel free to message me and I'll respond as soon as possible.


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